Mr S was off work for a few weeks over the holidays & we had grand things planned to do, but life happened & unexpected company came to town so our plans changed. There was the crazy rushing about to set up spare beds, & set a few things to rights we hadn't anticipated the need for, but it all came together in the end. Christmas Eve came in bright & early & warm.
The guys had a blast playing cricket while I nursed a headache & listened to old cricket tales from Nana; none of which involved her old cricket injury much to the boys disappointment & Mr S' relief. We flew kites & rockets, & came home & did it all again. After dinner the guys decided to challenge Mr S & a visiting Uncle to a few rounds of Plum Tennis, played with the unripe plums that fell form our tree. Once they wrapped that up they moved on to archery.
I've suggested we join an archery club as a family this year, but so far no one's taken me seriously. Yet, it's not stopped them from entertaining themselves with the broken arrows & too-small bows in the backyard. They don't let me play, but that's okay, I prefer the long bow to the cross bow.
They dragged a big box out into the yard & few a funny little target on it, much unlike most targets. One had to hit precise areas on the target that seemed to be in odd places in order to score the most points. There was a lot of action happening out there when all the guys gasped & then busted out laughing. The arrow, missing it's point now, ricocheted off the box, hit the base of our fence & proceeded to fly over the fence into a neighbor's yard.
There's that moment when an arrow is sailing across a fence line where you're praying like mad no one's standing there, or their pet, or anything of value. Not that our arrows can do much damage these days, but there's a reason we don't generally use them in close proximity to others yards.
The guys finally pulled themselves together & peeked over the fence to be sure Fred was okay, & as no one saw his flappy tail or happy face chewing a ball & a few calls to him produced nothing they carried on looking for the arrow. They found it, lodged in the neighbors beautiful archway of roses, but couldn't reach it. They produced a great number of contraptions in their attempt to make longer arms, but each one failed in it's turn.
Not to give up the kids trotted around the corner to ask if they could retrieve the object. Imagine the wail of laughter that errupted when we heard them say, "I'm so sorry Mrs W, but the arrow we shot flew into your backyard & we just wondered if you'd mind if we went to get it back."
Mrs W was understanding, but not until after she'd regained her composure that an arrow had sailed through her yard. Not that I blame her. They boys also removed all the tennis balls, ping-pong balls, & other objects that, in their furious game of Plum Tennis had sailed over her fence. We wished each other a lovely Christmas & she parted with the words, "Feel free to come over & get your items anytime, but I'm afraid Fred chewed your tennis ball."
The boys assured her they didn't mind & clambered up over the fence & back home again. They are now contemplating the many ways in which they could devise a cricket ball that wills till bowl properly but not fly over the fence. Never mind they shot an arrow into someone else's yard.. I feel somehow compelled to insist they get their priorities straight, but I feel pretty certain it's best to let them worry about cricket while I hide the archery supplies.