A striker
A day with Sue and John, scorchingly hot, and ending in big spots of rain, and thunder north of Birmingham. Opted not to do anything arduous. I spent plenty of time reading in the back garden under a tree, Pascale Petit's Mama Amazonica, and also reading through a few copies of Supernatural Tales. Mysteriously, I managed to accumulate five thousand paces playing football with Whiskey in the back garden. The day hadn't begun well between us. She undid my laces as I came into the kitchen this morning, and bit my hands. However this little pup is a keen footballer, leaping over the ball and biting bits of surface of it while barking and leaping happily. Something unexpected was happening to me, I found myself positively liking this dog a great deal. I hadn't kicked a football in years, and this was great fun too, and I found myself dancing around the garden and laughing with the pup. Evening, Lorraine cooked curries supported by Sue her Sue chef, and we forked these down ...