Welsh Windbag

It’s always nice to get away for a few days. But it’s not quite so good when the weather is simply atrocious. It’s been pissing down with frequent bouts of torrential rain for days now, which has certainly put the cap on this summer being, to my memory, the worst ever. August has been a complete washout. July was fine for about three weeks of it, but June was a disappointment as well. And you just know it is not going to be long until we’re back to freezing cold days as usual. Sigh.

I spent the weekend with my family in Wales, and most of that time was spent holed up indoors because of the conditions. It was meant to be a celebration for my brother’s good GCSE results, but it’s hard to escape the fact that he spent most of the time indoors watching Sky Sports News or on the X-Box. It was a relief that he did better than expected, as we were all worried that his revision was not particularly extensive. I was also a bit guilty that I could have helped him out more to get some better marks, but in the end it wasn’t relevant.

I think the best part about going to Wales is the fact that where we stay there is a giant open field nearby, on which people like to camp. But they only fill a tiny amount of it, leaving the rest as a vast expanse in which to play games – namely football and cricket. Cricket in particular because of how much space it needs. Back home there is some space, but you just know that someone will manage to find the only garden wall nearby and hit it over it in a freak shot, or worse, an avoidable terribly misdirected throw. It’s just best not to risk it.

It’s only when you play it do you realise that six people is nowhere near enough to cover the areas, and a batsman can stay in for as long as they like if they’re any good. I think of myself as having some ability to bat and bowl, so I don’t mind doing either of them, but it’s frustrating that in the end, because there’s very little prospect of getting people out, you have to offer them some chances to catch in order to give other people a go. I scored 30 the other day and was already bored that no one had had a chance to get me out.

Sometimes it’s tempting just to bat on and on. So, on 30, I decided I’d go for the 50 and then retire not out. The next ball comes to me, beautifully placed for a good cracking. It is duly smashed.

To a fielder. Right down his throat. Worse, it was caught. You can normally rely on some suspect butter fingers to save the day. But not this time. Out for 30, just as I was planning a big one.

Cricket is often cruel like that. But it’s quite a fun game if you keep the pace up. Like I say though, six people just isn’t enough. With one batting, one bowling and one behind the stumps, you only have three fielders left. Nine people is probably the minimum to have a really good game. It is one of my ambitions in life to play in at least a half competitive game of cricket!

Yet, my performance was hampered this weekend by a freak running nose. There is nothing worse that a random runny nose from nowhere. I don’t think it was a cold as there were no other symptoms. My suspicion is that something there was irritating my nose a lot, but I’ve no idea what. All I know is that in Wales my nose was running all the time, and now I’m back home it isn’t. I can’t stand feeling ill.

But all in all, a nice weekend. Unfortunately, none of my supposed future housemates for London have replied to my e-mails which told them we should arrange a meetup in London to view some potential houses. This is quite bad, as it’s now nearly September, and I have nothing lined up, and with little prospect of what’s around the corner.

If I don’t hear from them this week then I’m probably only going to be living with one other person next year. Which means no house, and it will have to be a flat. I didn’t really want to live in a flat…

The Summer of Inaction, Apart From Occasional Visits to Wales to Play Cricket And/Or Watching My Brother’s Football Team Lose, Continues.

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