" Fast Feet " That's my new nickname for Henry. Look at that blurring on the feet there. Look at it! They saw that Mark Waugh was all about the wrists, well – incredible volume aside – Hank is all about the feet. Malcolm Marshall used to do a little foot stomping number before charging in to hurt some poor soul, well Henry does the same. Whatever it is he aims to hurt.
Let me assure you that this jumper looks far better when Henry (or indeed Ezra) is not afflicted with a cold. Black is not a colour that renders the tell tale signs of a runny nose inconspicuous.
As expected, I am missing the Grand Old Dame terribly . I am getting a sense of what life will be like when the knock her down for good. However, we shall always have our memories.
It turns out, when push comes to shove and the car lays broken down on the top of a mountain, Ezra is of as little use as his father in matters automotive.
Late afternoon, just finished the gardening, time to kick back with a cold drink and a muse on vital metaphysical conundrums: "Why [indeed] don't we do it in the road?"
Last time I posted one from this series, I copped some flak for comparing Henry to Audrey Hepburn, the implication being that he will resent it. I've taken that on board, so this time I will say that Henry reminds me of Audrey Tautou .
It's another hairy Henry this evening, this time holding out a n olive branch stick for all the peoples of the world. Don't trust him peoples. As soon as you get close enough, he's liable to whack you with the stick and make a run for it!