The Demon Batsman...or Not

Off with the second team to play Calverton 2nds today, at what turned out to be a lovely ground up a track like a testing ground for tanks. Was feeling slightly woozy when I finally got out of the car, nothing to do with the large glass of Pimms I had late last night, no not at all.

We fielded first, although at times I'm not sure that what I was doing was fielding, I was really angry to let a couple of howlers through for 4 - no matter how hard I try I still have some clumsy moments out there. I had some good ones too, but no-one remembers them when you look like a new born giraffe and field like a man with no hands at times.

Having said that, I was not the only one, seeing as Calverton ran up 297-1 in 45 overs. Batting was just too good. And the bowling, in my case, rubbish. I came on for the last three and the batsman, on 125 not out and 92 not out at the time, smashed me all over the place. I was trying to bowl full and straight, and although I got the straight bit right, I bowled too full and ended up watching the ball sail over my head. A lot. And between fielders legs too, which frankly I am in no position to criticise.

Anyway, I ate an excellent tea, the chicken sandwiches were mighty in their meat and mayo content.

Batting at number 11, I thought that was my day done, and although we batted very well too, with some fantastic hitting going on, and a brilliant 50 too by one of our batsmen. But we need someone to score a century for us to win really, even though we were up with the run rate.

So I went in last, to face a young bowler, and promptly hit my first over for 14. God knows how, I have a cheap bat and have barely middled the ball all year. A bit later I nearly hit their spinner over the fence for 6. I hit 5 boundaries in all for 25 not out, although the Calverton scorers got my bloody score wrong and gave some of my runs to my batting partner. Easy enough to do, as he is 25 years younger than me, shorter and a lot slimmer, and was wearing a blue helmet while I was wearing a white cap.

So there the league season ends. Crazy though it can sometimes get, it does my mental health good; it means I focus on cricket exclusively for 7 hours and thus my tics diminish. It helps me to socialise "normally" which doesn't often happen for Mr Aspergers here. It gives my weekends a focus.

I shall miss it.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 01.09.18

Disaster in the Garden

I was just putting away my bicycle last night, when I noticed that something about my garden just wasn't looking right. Being dark, I couldn't immediately figure it out, until I was standing in the doorway.

My buddleia had been hacked down.

This is the tall, lovely buddleia that my sparrows sat in a chirped outside my window while using it for feeding and nesting material, that a seven spot ladybird was hibernating in, that butterflies and bees visit in summer, and one day a glorious migrant hawker sat on the purple flowers like the lord of all.

And now it's gone, chopped down presumably by my Polish neighbours for reasons of overhanging their garden, or blocking their sun. It would have been as well, alas, but they could have asked me!

They've been there over a year now, we've never had a problem, and we've always been friendly. Maybe their landlord told them they could. I don't know.

They dumped the remains between their garage and my shed.

My mum and sister have reassured me that it will grow back quickly, with renewed vigour, but still! Where are my cheery little spuggies going to perch on their way up to their nests? I'm not going to be able to watch them in the morning any more.

All for a bit of bloody sun.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 24.02.16