If the first few weeks of January are anything to go by, then I’m going to need horse tranquillisers to stay on track. The blows just keep coming. This weekend’s tennis antics saw the Wall of Glencairn and I — normally stout in defence and rarely unbeaten on blustery B court — finally losing to Stoute Kabotes (still delayed in his voyage to North Africa) and Trapdoor (so named for his lever-like double-handed volleys). They smashed us 6-3 — a scoreline that flattered us considering that we spent most of the set lurching at incredible passing shots when we rushed the net.
On the home front, things were just as bad. On Friday a large male baboon was trapped on the garage roof between my cricket bat-wielding son and a paintball gun-toting baboon monitor. The petrified primate eventually made a jump for it … landing on my beloved Honda Jazz — not only setting a massive dent in the roof but also smashing the windscreen. That required a long and intricate call to Outsurance, where m...
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