Annual Boosters

Evening all!

We had a stressful evening yesterday because it was time for that most awful of trips! Time to take our furry girls for their annual jabs at the vet.

Unless you have a very chilled out cat like our old cat Sherry, anyone who’s ever had a cat will sympathise with the ordeal of having to install your cat in his or her cat carrier.

We did everything right. We got the carriers out a few days before the appointment to get the girls used to them, and it appeared to be going quite well.

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Tink packed herself all ready to go, but unfortunately two days early! Olive curled up in the other carrier too but seemed to develop camera shyness so I didn’t manage to snap any evidence.

So far so good. However, yesterday, the day of the appointment, they knew! I have no idea how, but they knew something was going on and all of a sudden it became apparent why cat burglars are named after these beautiful furry escape artists of ours. Normally it’s no problem to pick up either of our girls but yesterday they wriggled, they stealthily slunk away and they used down right brute force!

I’m currently sporting the scars!

This was the work of Miss Olive.

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Looks like butter wouldn’t melt doesn’t she? Bless her, she was just scared. We gave up after the savaging and tried Tink instead. She wasn’t at all happy with the situation, but we managed to get her in the smaller carrier without further injury.

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Deep breaths! Back to Olive. We tried telling her it was for her own good but she didn’t believe us. We promised it wouldn’t be that bad and she’d be back home before she knew it, but she still didn’t want to go and kept running round the room with me trotting round behind her dripping blood as I went! Eventually I had the bright idea of putting a blanket over her and, boom, worked a treat. She was in!

See how they’re both studiously ignoring me and concentrating on something far less mean in the opposite direction.

We have to make sure they can see each other at all times when they’re in their carriers otherwise they panic and cry. The only time they’ve been apart throughout their four years was when they were spayed and had separate operations. Obviously they have times when they’re in different rooms, but they always know they could go to the other if they want to.

I didn’t take photos when we were actually in the consulting room – didn’t want the vet to think I was completely mad – but they were really brave. Olive didn’t want to come out of the carrier, having kicked up (literally) such a fuss about getting in! Not even a Dreamie could convince her! She curled her tail and legs under her and stayed that way no matter what the vet did! Tink was more brave. She came out with minimal coaxing but kept trying to seek refuge on hubby’s shoulders!

Anyway, ordeal over, they both got a clean bill of health and they’ve been jabbed for this year.

They both recovered quickly when we got home and assumed their usual sleeping and lounging activities with gusto.

It seems a real shame to put them through this every year. They’re house cats so are highly unlikely to come into contact with any nasties, and they don’t go to a caterie when we go on holiday. You never know though I suppose. We could move to somewhere in the future away from a busy road and it might be safe to see if they want to go out (although I doubt it – I have absolutely no intention of doing anything that involves a solicitor ever again if I can help it!)

I can look forward to the weekend now we’ve got this horrible event out of the way. It’s the biggest tennis weekend of the year – Wimbledon finals weekend!

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I’m not going to be able to watch the ladies’ final live tomorrow so I’ll catch the highlights but I’m fully intending to be ensconced in front of the telly on Sunday for the men’s final. Unfortunately, my fave, Rafa Nadal, got knocked out today in the semi-final by Roger Federer. I took the afternoon off work to watch it because there’s a finite time left in which these two champions could meet and play and I wanted to soak it up while I still have the opportunity. It wasn’t as epic as I was hoping it would be, and the result didn’t go my way, but it was a great match all the same. I’ll be Team Roger on Sunday now. Let’s go Roger, let’s go!

Toodles.

Wimbledon!

Whoop! The best fortnight of the year is here!

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Oh I wish it could be Wimbledon every day! I’ll watch any tennis – singles, doubles, men, women, mixed, wheelchair, grand slam, ATP 1000, 500, 250, challenger, Davis Cup – but there’s something special about Wimbledon. I guess it’s partly because it’s my home slam and also that it’s the tennis that I grew up watching (because no other tennis was ever shown on telly) but it’s not just that. It’s the tradition, the occasion, the royal connections. I think if you were to ask the players, if they could only win one slam, which would it be, most would immediately answer, Wimbledon.

First held in 1877, Wimbledon is the oldest slam, it’s the only slam still played on the original tennis surface, grass and it’s the only tournament where players have to wear the traditional white kit. The great Roger Federer was, a couple of years ago, reprimanded because the soles of his trainers were fluorescent yellow and had to change them for the rest of the tournament. Venus Williams was berated in 2017 for having pink bra straps on view and had to change the garment midway through the match (she was, of course, allowed to leave the court to do so!) The outfit has to be predominantly white, with the only real deviation being the players’ sponsorship logos. The All England Club staunchly upholds these traditions, and I hope they never change.

The first year I went to Wimbledon was 2012 when I got tickets to the Olympic tennis which was held there, and I caught the Wimbledon bug. I applied in the ballot for tickets to the Championships held in 2013 and I was lucky enough to get two centre court tickets. Since then Dad and I have both applied every year, and there’s only been two years when neither of us has got tickets. One year we both got tickets so we spent three glorious days in London and spent two full days in Wimbledon.

We arrived at Southfields tube station on Tuesday, the earliest we’ve ever visited the Championships, and excitedly joined the crowds walking up to the venue. Soon we were in and our senses were being assaulted by the almost tangible atmosphere that draws you into the occasion.

This year we had No. 1 Court tickets so we headed straight there for the 1pm start. We were on the very back row, ZC, but we still had a cracking view.

Having tickets for one of the show courts pretty much guarantees that you’ll see some of the big names in tennis and this year on No. 1 Court we got to see three number ones.

The ladies world number one, Ashleigh Barty playing China’s Saisai Zheng.

The ladies British number one, Jo Konta playing Romanian Ana Bogdan.

And finally my all time number one (with the exception of Sir Andy Murray), Rafa Nadal playing Yuichi Sugita from Japan.

All the number ones won reasonably easily. That’s the potential downside of getting tickets so early in the fortnight, there’s a risk that the matches might not be as gripping as later on in the tournament because the competition hasn’t yet been whittled down to the top performers for that year. The matches we saw were great and there were some brilliant rallies and exciting winners along the way but all three matches were won in straight sets without even a hint of a tiebreak.

This did give us time to have a bit of an explore of the grounds that we’ve not been able to do before when we’ve been engrossed in matches all day.

We popped out in between the two ladies matches and picked up the afternoon tea that we’d booked in advance.

We sat at the top of Henman Hill (Murray Mount, Robson’s Ridge) to eat our delicious picnic. I only had yoghurt and fruit for breakfast because I was trying to save Syns for the rest of the day so I was thinking about my rumbling tummy and not about taking photos of our food. This is what we had though.

Delicious! We’re not vegetarian, just cheese freaks! The sandwiches were on wholemeal bread so they would’ve taken care of my Healthy Extras. Pretty sure the rest of it doesn’t fall under Slimming World rules though! I couldn’t resist the scone with clotted cream and jam (cream or jam first? Always cream for me – doesn’t make sense in my head the other way round, you wouldn’t put jam on before butter!) but I did only partake of one of the cakes (the other three are in our kitchen now waiting for hubby to eat them being ignored by me) and I didn’t have any cream on my strawberries.

I didn’t want to miss a second of Rafa who was up third, so we took the opportunity after we’d eaten to pop to the Wimbledon shop before heading back to watch Jo Konta.

I got a jumper which I’m not going to be able to wear for some time given the current warm weather. I would go and take a picture to show you, but there’s a puddy cat curled up on my lap and she looks so comfy.

Speaking of puddy cats, I got them a present.

They love these bands and they carry them round the house in their mouths!

And of course I got a bear. Come on! It is me you’re talking to!

Looks right at home with his compatriots, doesn’t he? He’s called Rafa, by the way.

The grounds are meticulously maintained, no mean feat given the amount of footfall over these two weeks. This is the first year I’ve given more than a fleeting glance at the planting around the courts. There are living walls by the big screen outside No. 1 Court and there are hanging baskets and planters pretty much anywhere they could squeeze one in, all following the purple and green Wimbledon colour scheme.

2019 sees the debut of the new roof on No. 1 Court.

It’s looking like there won’t be any rain delays over the course of the tournament but the roof is still coming into its own. As I’m watching Andy Murray and Pierre Hugues Herbert play their debut doubles match, they’ve just closed the roof because of poor light to allow them to finish the match tonight. Jamie Murray wasn’t so lucky – he was playing on one of the outside courts without a roof so that match will conclude tomorrow.

Final picture for today, and a fitting end for a tennis post I think.

The late, great Fred Perry!

Enjoy the rest of Wimbledon folks.