The annual sibling tennis tournament took place this evening.

The drizzle stopped and covers were removed (from the rackets) and play began in the lower field near the chickens.

Last years annual event was cancelled due to rain and the threat was upon us as the warm up took place.

Warm up includes waving arms in the style of Windy Miller and bending down once and realising that your toes get further away each year.

Serve was decided by me . . I said "I'll serve".

One game all and an overhead smash from younger brother sailed out of the court into the trees and bushes behind me.

Play was suspended as he headed off to look for it . . I practiced bouncing the ball on the edge of the racket.

After five minutes I got fed up and went to help him. He had then found it. On coming out of the bushes he started hopping about like he'd been shot and we then realised he'd been stung.

A wasp was then subjected to some vicious forehands. The only time I'd actually made decent contact with anything.

Play resumed only to be stopped a minute later due to unforeseen throbbing of the ankle.

He admitted he'd never been stung by a wasp before and I was concerned he might die before I had a chance to win fairly !!

A medic was called for and as she failed to answer the phone indoors he ran in to get some magical cream.

Play resumed.

A game of tennis like you'll see no where else. I ran out a 6-1 6-0 winner but as they say in sport, the scoreline didn't effect the passage of play . . it should have been 6-0 6-0 :))

A third set was started but rain began and we were worried about getting our balls wet . . play was suspended for the final time and tea was taken.

I just don't move like I use too *creak* . . *groan* . . *ache*