Labradoodle-ing

Well not a big tennis fan but I showed some willing and decided to cut my own Centre and No.1 Court lawns whilst popping in and out to watch the Murray vs Federer Wimbledon Final. My reasoning was:

a). I could pace myself and ensure I kept hydrated and filled with carbohydrates;
b). I could call off the grass cutting when it rained (it didn't);
c). I would be doing 'something' when MrsB got home instead of just lying on the sofa watching Grand Prix and Tennis; and
d). As per Wimbledon groundsmen getting their grass ready for the Olympics, I needed to prepare my lawns to coincide with the RHS Flower Show at Tatton.

I had assumed a long game followed by disappointment, and of course after a good start, things reverted to type. Not an epic failure on the English Footballers scale this though, just beaten by an absolute genius.

Blip-wise I had no plan. I just thought I would wait and see who or what passed by the garden. Mowing the front grass on a Sunday normally produces some kind of encounter. I once got stopped using my Black & Decker electric lawn edge trimmer by a group of four Japanese Businessmen a few years back. They had never seen such a technological marvel and wanted to photograph me with it 'in action'. For all I know it could have been pure industrial espionage, with edge trimmers now completely de rigueur in Tokyo. I suspect they had been staying in the Longview Hotel (Bell's Bunker of Walk the Line) about 6 doors down and had gone for a stroll.

Nothing out of the ordinary today though, but I did see neighbour Kevin and his youngest son Fin bringing back their new puppy Dylan from a walk on the Heath. I use the word 'puppy' lightly, because at 7 months, this Labradoodle already looks more like a small pony.

Anyway, I paused in my grass cutting, and got an agreement for a quick doggie portrait. A close up I thought would be good, particularly as he looked so interested (in me). Anyway, I got a bit too close, and Dylan pounced a second later.