Lost the weekly tennis battle with Barry 3-6. My daughter Becky had tried to load him down with a full roast chicken dinner beforehand, with treacle tart to follow. Sadly he smelled a rat & declined the treacle follow up. I thought he'd actually managed to scoff the seconds so my whole game strategy was based on him staying in one spot all night. If I'd known he was a tart lighter my approach would have been radically different.
As we were sitting out afterwards supping a beer there was a wonderful sky with occasional flashes of lightning. Not sure if this photo does it full justice.
Seems I'm on a losing streak this week since the Tuesday son v dad squash result ended up me losing 1-3 to David. That makes the match score for Aug 1-1, & tie breaker games 4-5.
Good news... Izzy Chicken is out of the magic box. When I raised the top I didn't get a demented feather ball but the normal, inquisitive chicken again. First thing she did when released was to plonk herself in the dust box & have a good roll around. I'll know if all is finally well when I first appear tomorrow & see her lined up with the other three waiting to be fed.
Had wandered round to both daughters during the day. Played grandson Connor football in the afternoon. He was kicking the ball much better. When I asked him if he'd been practising with his dad, he said he thought a little bit of my brain had got into his. Pretty smart way of describing training for a five year old!
I'm fed up having to go up to the allotment in the Punto just to take the strimmer. Tried fitting the strimmer to my bike crossbar, but even I could see there was going to be significant wobbling. Think I'll try using the strimming time on digging over the new plot, so there'll be less to cut back anyway. Although only up on plot for an hour, managed to turn a few spadefuls over. If I make a rule that on every visit I dig an area, no matter how small, it'll soon get done.

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