I'll try anything once ....

.... and yesterday was no exception.

Actually it all started earlier in the week when a

cheery Scotswoman sitting next to me in the doctor's waiting

room posed the question, "Do you bowl?"

Good old Beryl Cook.  I love her work.

 

 

Not something I had ever thought about really

but she assured me that even if I didn't fancy

bowling the Social Club in Acle is very

lively and I would soon get to make new friends.

 

So with my misgivings put to one side and

just the merest touch of blusher on my cheeks

I sallied forth to see what fate had in store for me.

I must have been very wicked in a former life, that's all I can think.

 

 

I lasted all of half an hour!

 

Everyone was very friendly and welcoming,

I could find no fault there.

 

Everyone was also a good fifteen years my senior,

clad in white with their names machine stitched just

above their left breasts.  Whether for ease of identification

or in case they forgot I'm still not sure.

Beryl strikes again.

 

 

I watched the first "rubber" or "chukka" or whatever it is

they call a game played out in total, intense silence

as they waved their arms aloft trying to send kinetic, directional

messages to their woods and rolled their eyes when the

particular wood in question took not a blind bit of notice

and hurtled on to land with a thump in the gulley.

 

They came equipped with towels to keep their hands

free from moisture, personalised bags to carry

their bowls from A to B, specialist lifting devices for

those unable to bend but what really freaked me out
was when an elderly gentleman took a small aerosal spray
from his pocket and proceeded to squirt his woods.

I'm a cross stitcher - get me out of here!