We arrived back home yesterday just after the Wimbledon final had started - Djokovic v Federer - they provided us with an exciting final, Novak Dj winning in 4 sets. I like both of them, but the crowd was so much on Federer's side that I felt I ought to support Djokovic. Apparently he spoke crossly to a ball girl (?).
If so, then of course, he shouldn't have, even under the stresses and strains of the championship. But... I suppose that was one advantage of having attended a Convent school in the Fifties. The way some of those nuns spoke to us, I don't think any tennis player could have upset us! It must have helped to harden us up for whatever nastiness was to come. But it did not, sadly, teach us to keep "the law of loving-kindness" on our tongue.
It is Jehovah who teaches us that.
Our journey down was fine. We left early and had a butterfly stop at the Marbled White meadow, where the marbled white butterflies rise up in fountains courting and fighting. Col saw the elusive creature he was stalking, but it wouldn't pose. I sat in the car eating my sandwich and reading my latest book about Everest. It looks like they are going to get me and my sofa down alive - given that the author survived to write the book - but we may be a little battered. (Stephen Venables "Higher than the Eagle Soars")
I am hoping the eagle is not going to soar above the ProperFlushToilet level, with disabled facilities, not if I am going along.
If I was forced at gunpoint to make the choice of a single favourite butterfly, Marbled White would be one of the ones I would mention before they would have to shoot me for being unable to single one out.
And talking of butterflies, as I often am, I must get my Secretary hat on today and tackle the Butterfly paperwork I found waiting on the mat. Then I must start my study for the week. I want to draw as close as I can to the Grand Maker of the butterfly.