“So Maria must wonder what she can actually do about this…seventeen defeats by Serena in a row,” Sue Barker says to Lindsay Davenport. Or maybe Lindsay says this to Sue. Am not sure. And it doesn’t matter. The very fact that they are now chatting in the studio means that I have missed the Serena Williams versus Maria Sharapova semi final. It can’t have been very long, I realise. They hadn’t even started playing when I set off for training.
Was grumpy on walk back from the gym and am even more so now. The dishwasher beeps, signalling that it has finished its cycle and now needs unloading. Opening its mouth to stop it whining, I kick the kitchen door shut behind me so don’t have to look at the washing machine. That too has finished spinning and its flashing lights indicate that the washing is ready to be hung up on the airer.
Am not doing these things. They will just have to wait. Need to watch some tennis. Ah look, here is Jamie Murray. It is probably not even possible to be grumpy whilst watching doubles.
“It’s the Davis Cup, of course, next Friday,” the commentator says. “The main question is of course whether Jamie will be partnered by his brother Andy or…”
“By Tom Inglot perhaps,” the other commentator says and, oh dear, here it is again. Am Still Grumpy as remember that was maybe going to go to the Davis Cup with Mum but now can’t as have the MRI scan next Friday to see if there is cancer in my spine.
Must focus, I think. Look: here are four chaps wearing white, playing tennis on grass. For me. It is actual Wimbledon.
“It’s a huge match, isn’t it?” One of the commentators says, as Jamie drops his serve. Come on Jamie.
Not sure what am in quite such a bad mood about anyway. Am here, in the flat. Wimbledon is on. Maria Sharapova, for example, is having a far worse day than I am: Sue just tells us that she lost 6 – 2, 6 – 4 to Serena.
Miss my Seb, of course. After days and days of being with my love All The Time, is so tough to be separated from him. Wish he was here watching this with me.
Today has been an annoying day of appointments and car travel. Tomorrow will be better, I think. Will get up, go to the gym and then make lunch. Will make sure not to miss all the tennis: Roger and Andy are playing each other and am looking forward to watching this. And then will see my fluffy monster in the evening and cuddle him all over.
Wandering out into the garden, I spot a honey bee on my lavender. So that is nice. Am just going to enjoy this summer evening of tennis. No one can stop me.
Happy Thursday everyone!
*1945. By Nancy Spain. A murder story centred around Wimbledon.