Tennis!

A blustery, showery day - ideal for watching tennis on TV while doing knee bending exercises on the sofa, of course.

I spent the morning watching all the Sunday morning politics programmes - endlessly fascinating. You couldn't make it up.

We took Archie up the hill between showers and had a bit of ball throwing fun, though we're not very good at this (perhaps we should invest in one of those ball throwing thingies). I missed a good shot of two bums, one with a wagging tail, sticking out of the gorse bush. Archie had refused to go into the bush any further, and JR had to tentatively poke her way in to rescue a badly thrown ball.

He and JR walked back home from there, via the duck pond, while I rushed home in time for the tennis.

Rafa was on fire! What a player. There was nothing Stan could do in the face of that barrage of precision shots. Roll on Queens and Wimbledon.