Pok-Pok.

As I write, 'er indoors is running through town to get home for the Murray/Nadal match, no doubt pushing and kicking small children and OAPs out of the way in a frenzied attempt to not miss Murray losing yet again.
She has also demanded chilled white wine and a picnic-style tea the like of which has not yet graced modern cuisine. The pressure is on.

Me? I'm not a tennis fan, or pok-pok as I call it. I shall leave her and Andy alone and await the ritual disappointment.