After the game

I only went out in the garden to throw some footballs back over the fence to next door. There are two small boys there who spend all their spare time practising something. All those hours of practise haven't made their aims any better. I wouldn't have gone outside otherwise. I'm useless at throwing, by the way. (Good at throwing up, but that's another story). Most of the time, my feeble throw bounces the ball off the shed roof back into my garden again. An hour of bending, stretching and hurling balls is my exercise for the week.

Where does the watering can come in? Well, it doesn't really. It just sits there rusting away at the side of the shed mocking my efforts and telling me to tidy up out there while I'm about it. It's been there for years and the robins like it. They perch on the handle looking very sweet but haven't posed for a photo yet. One day....