Backgammon

backgammon

When I was growing up and living the desert island lifestyle, one of things we did during the rainy season when the hotel was closed to pass the time (there’s not a huge amount of entertainment available on a desert island in the rain) was play backgammon. It’s a classic game, what with the dice and the spikey confusing looking board and the thrill of capturing your opponents stones and the.. well.. you get the idea. Anyhow, there is a fine backgammon board here, and Vera and I have been passing some of the time recapturing the thrill of my youth with a few games. Thus far Vera seems convinced that the gods of the dice are out to get her, and the results do seem to back up her convictions. Ah well.

Speaking of Gods, dice and chance, it does seem that when I lend my support to a football team they don’t do overly well. Thus far I have supported Australia (lost 4-0 to Germany), Germany (lost 1-0 to Serbia), and England twice, who drew both times, against Algeria and the USA. Something is amiss. Sadly I can’t really bring myself to convincingly support Slovenia on Wednesday, although maybe for the sake of the nation I should seriously consider it. Still, if it all goes wrong on Monday, we can perhaps just blame the ball. That seems more likely to be the culprit than a lack of ability. Yep.

Well, that was the football. The ongoing dreadlock maintenance is still ongoing, currently seventeen left to do. The thrills and spills never end. The weather has changed from glorious European summer to actual European summer, i.e. rain and cold. This does seem to line up with the onset of Wimbledon, which starts on Monday, and Glastonbury, which is also next week. It just wouldn’t be a British summer without pictures of flooded and muddy revellers or frantic court covering action from teams of highly trained ball people. Bring it on I reckon.

Finally, our social calendar dictates that we attend a party tonight, where I have been promised that classic party dish, spaghetti bolognaise, plus the thought of beer has been wafted past my mind. I’m able to confirm, in case you were wondering, that my German is still in it’s excessively infant stage, but I can at least look happily morose at how badly the football has gone, which will no doubt cheer everyone else up. Hurrah. Keep on smiling folks, summer is nearly here!




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