The Men's Final and a perfect summer evening

We watched Novak Djokovic beat Rafael Nadal, in four sets.  Which is amazing. Two great players.  And, at moments, possibly some of the best tennis ever seen in a Wimbledon final?

We used to watch Wimbledon when I was a child.  My mother loved it. We would come home from school and there would be a salad tea ready, with strawberries and cream, or more usually milk, which was fine.  I still prefer my strawberries with milk or yoghourt.

And we would all watch the current match.   It seemed more magical then.  I don't know whether that is simply because I am older and tireder, or because there is so much money in the game now - money and fame.

It had a charm about it too that it doesn't seem to have now.  

Col was off butterflying (see The Captain's Log), while I went to the meeting at the Kingdom Hall - being taught the word of Jehovah - and then went on to visit Maggie who is still convalescing.  Jen was there.  Then I rushed back, via the supermarket - for the obligatory strawberries - to watch the Final.

We - Capt.B, Jacks and myself - went to Tom and Jill's for supper on Saturday.   Roast lamb and a strawberry pastry.  Jill is a wonderful cook.  And we had champagne - before supper - in their walled garden.  A perfect summer evening.  Or as perfect as you can get until the earth is transformed under the rulership of the Kingdom of God.

And I got a lovely email from a guy on my magazine route.