I played Association Croquet this afternoon. I say 'played' advisedly and with care. Fortunately there are no sueable implications in making such a statement although if my opponent was likely to read this Blog I might be a tad more cautious. To be frank neither my head no my body seemed able to realise why I was on the lawn. I've no idea even whether I won or not. If I did it was definietely not because I deserved to win. My opponent is one of the best players in the Club. Watching her was like watching poetry. What she must have felt like watching me I can't imagine. What she was gracious enough to say was that I wasn't my usual self.
The relevance of this is that if today had been my last game before my six month break from croquet then I would have left the game feeling all the dissappointing negative things instead of all the positive things I was thinking before I went onto the lawn.
That led me to thinking about the fact that my last game of this season is not too far away.
I came here for 25 weeks. I leave 3 weeks today. So I still have nearly one eighth of my total time still to enjoy. One eighth is quite a reasonable proportion generally speaking. Why, therefore, does it feel as though it is no time at all? Tricks of the mind.
The season is changing though. Yesterday evening the temperature on the deck was 23 deg until the sun had disappeared behind the hills. We had our starters and drinks on the deck. This morning I cleared the deck of dozens of dead black beetles which were swarming in the warmth of last night and were attracted by the light. The birds clear up all the dead moths and insects but won't touch the beetles. I don't blame them.
Tonight it's a chilly 17 degrees and it's dull. But then it is Autumn.
Time for a change. Time for summer.
The relevance of this is that if today had been my last game before my six month break from croquet then I would have left the game feeling all the dissappointing negative things instead of all the positive things I was thinking before I went onto the lawn.
That led me to thinking about the fact that my last game of this season is not too far away.
I came here for 25 weeks. I leave 3 weeks today. So I still have nearly one eighth of my total time still to enjoy. One eighth is quite a reasonable proportion generally speaking. Why, therefore, does it feel as though it is no time at all? Tricks of the mind.
The season is changing though. Yesterday evening the temperature on the deck was 23 deg until the sun had disappeared behind the hills. We had our starters and drinks on the deck. This morning I cleared the deck of dozens of dead black beetles which were swarming in the warmth of last night and were attracted by the light. The birds clear up all the dead moths and insects but won't touch the beetles. I don't blame them.
Tonight it's a chilly 17 degrees and it's dull. But then it is Autumn.
Time for a change. Time for summer.
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