Victory! A tale of bragging.

Thanks for all the feedback on the blog makeover. I continue to love myself sick in it.


But then there was this one…….


Sorry Mrs Woog, your can do better, your blog is fantastic but the new design is really mundane.  Maybe you were were trying for a mundane look and feel, if that is the case you have nailed.


I wanted to respond with something so passive aggressive that it went by unnoticed but…. meh.  I was very pleased however when that person was not chosen to win my Beauty Giveaway! I may have included something from the faecal family in the parcel.



Counting down through the comments to discover the winner,  I noticed that some folk had used the entries to develop some sort of chat room like situation,  and there were quite a few multiple entries!  So it took a while and the winner was triple checked.  Congratulations to Kerri Sackville!  Please email me your postal address and we shall have you sorted in no time at all.


Speaking of winners.  Allow me to tell you a tale of tears,  tantrums and triumphs.


My boys have been going to tennis lessons since they could basically walk.  You have to do tennis or rugby or golf when  you live on the North Shore so you have something to talk about when you are older and you are drinking beers at the Oaks with your workmates.


Watching the boys tennis lessons is akin to having your wisdom teeth out without anesthetic. Harry does alright,  but he is flat footed to the extreme and has a remarkable running style.  Jack is almost a lost cause.


He stands in his own unique start position which is tennis racket dangling from one hand while the other hand is on his hip,  which is jutted out. His back swing is accompanied with a hand flourish and he misses the ball each time but performs a little ballet 360 twirl at the end.


I watch from the sidelines for a while before it becomes to much. I mean it is very un PC to scream out “For fuck’s sake get your hands out of your pants and hit the goddam ball! Stop dancing!” So I go up to the clubhouse and eat mixed lollies until the hour is over.


With school holidays,  we ramp up the tennis experience with a couple of days of tennis camp.  At Tennis camp there are a lot of kids who wear the full tennis whites and look fully pro. Jack ignores the tennis part and takes on the camp part and wears pink.


Harry wears whatever he pick up off the floor.  And yesterday he proved that it is not what you wear to tennis camp,  it is all about hitting the ball like a maniac and hoping it goes in the right direction.


He came “second first” in the singles and doubles competition this week,  giving him something to boast about for years to come.

Yeah you did!