Let's Just Call It Spring
It's a really good feeling walking out your front door into sunshine with a MP3 player fresh with new tracks. Forecasts of sun, lack of rain in the longterm rainfall predictions, healing and pure optimism had me decide over the weekend that it was going to be Spring now. The wettest July for a while was done. There were going to be flowers and baby ducks on my walk to work, calendars and misaligned knee-caps be damned.
Okay, I may have let hope get the best of me when I tried to cut across the grass for the first time and still came out the other side with damp shoes.
Also apparently it rained sometime overnight. And no ducklings were born. But I'm done with Winter officially.
This of course does not mean much in reality.
I umpired tonight, turning the sense of curiosity some teams had at seeing three umpires on the court at the start of the game into dread as I floundered about aiming for something between competent and noticed. As usual I've discovered the picture I have in my mind of how things will go is nothing like what eventuates in real life. But I had fun and I got twenty dollars which covers the whistle I bought and the petrol to get there.
I got to tech someone too, but I didn't get the rush of power I assume all the referees get when they do it to me.
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The woman with the fake tan stepped into my office, sat across from my desk and lit a cigarette.
At least, she would, sometime in the next 20 minutes. Smelling the future has advantages, but precision isn’t one of them.