Hi peeps! A nice sunny day, temp around 10c still and forecast to hit 17c next week ... for one day only. So no rushing to switch to summer wardrobe yet.
Here's a pic of my Valentine's tulips, looking a little droopy now. Thought I'd show you them as the mauve flowers and grey cat happen to be the colours of my skittles outfit. Skittles, you ask?
Well, we had friends round for supper the other night. Somewhere along the line they invited me to a skittles evening on Friday.
I thought this outfit was skittles-appropriate. Long jumper to hide parts of body best left hidden when bending over. Sensible flat boots to prevent sliding on wooden floor surface. Warm scarf as it takes a while for those places to heat up.
I searched the internet to find pics for you. Here's what skittles looks like being played, but unfortunately I still can't work out how to place the videos on my blog.
You stand at the other end and chuck a wooden ball, hoping to get all skittles down in one go.
It's a fun, sociable game.
During my search for pics I learned that American 10 pin bowling came about because a law prohibited 9 pin bowling when the game got a bit out of hand. The law stipulated 9 pins, so an imaginative bod added an extra skittle and 10 pin bowling was born.
I hope you find that snippet interesting. I did.
Now, I'm giving you all this information and grabbing pics from the internet because I didn't get to play :-(. We discovered that only league-registered players could play. I was league-registered, about 25 years ago. I got imaginative. Seems the game invites imaginative solutions. I told the organiser (with a smile) that I had been given a life-time membership 25 years ago for my services to island skittles. Unfortunately for me, the lady organiser had played 25 years ago, remembered my team, but not me (story of my life), and remembered that no life-time membership had been awarded in the 30 years she had been playing.
So, I sat on the sidelines and watched. With a glass of wine. I focused on the sociable side of the game. Well, there are worse things to do on a cold February evening. eh.
A la perchoine.