What ho,
Well, what a stinker of a first innings was had today. Awful. Thought I'd give the Roman field a rest and give the medieval one a go. Picked up a nice dress fastener when walking across it to another field the other day and a hammered would be nice if you'd be so kind, thanks very much. So I started swinging, but the trouble was I just wasn't feeling it. The stubble was stubborn, the mud clingy, the moisture in the early morning air just about spot on for maximising EML from the power lines, and signals were few and far between. Mind you, "signals" is something of a compliment to the raspy rubbish I was getting down the cans in between the iron, and any target dug was in full expectation of it being toot. My expectations were in fact exceeded in this respect, I'm sorry to say, and I was getting that desperate for something even half-decent that a couple of pistol balls were greeted with joy.
First innings batting collapse:
At the interval it was time for a rethink. Carry on here? Try another field? Go home? I was severely tempted by the last, but that wouldn't be British, would it? Stiff upper lip and all that, so I knocked back the last of me snifter, squared me shoulders, gave Jenks a practice thrash to get me in the right mood, and headed back onto the Roman field, full of determination to turn the day around.
Said determination took a bit of a dent when the first signal was yet another moo tube but I carried on and was rewarded some half hour later by a scratchy double-dinger signal which turned out to be a tiny hammered lying on the surface



Ok, nothing earth-shattering (though the hammered is a little cracker) but had I given in to the bad vibe and depressing conditions I'd not have benefitted the way I did and Jenks wouldn't have avoided a thrashing. Some days are beyond redemption finds-wise but one should nevertheless always keep swinging and maintain hope which may, or may not, be rewarded. Best foot forward at all times, and all that. We are British, after all.
I'll give the medieval field a proper going over when we're on better speaking terms. After all, it does throw up little gems like this:
Pip pip
