Saturday, 17 April 2010

Born to bowl

The Eldest Latte always wins at bowling.

She is a crack shot with a bowling ball guide ramp. But then she found out about angles from an early age, having learned to walk in a fixed wheel walking frame. At the age of three and four, Eldest would take aim with her frame, hoist her weight up into her arms, and with a few scoots of her feet would propel herself towards her destination in a straight line.

Fetching everyone's bowling balls is the perfect job for the Littlest Latte, who chose as a tot to take most of her first steps whilst carrying heavy objects, such as tape recorders and small pieces of furniture.

Me? As the sun shines and the spring winds bite, I abandon my pretence of being outdoorsy. Being in a gloomy, artificially lit building on one of the sunniest days of the year so far is absolutely fine with me.


  1. Wow, she is a crack shot, I feel your gloom. I am in a terrible mood today

  2. I hope there was lots and lots of cigarette smoke, too. There is at our bowling alley.

    (Still chortling about Littlest and the heavy objects. And I love her green ruffly top.)

  3. Since I hurt my elbow and can no longer lift bowling balls, I use a ramp too. Tell Eldest we're part of a fabulously exclusive club - oh, and if Littlest wants to come and lift bowling balls for me too, that would be just lovely.

  4. My high score at bowling: 40.

  5. I have never been bowling: I hate to loose, and I'm not a good sport. Better not to make me! If Louis Theroux's programme is to be taken seriously I suspect I should have been medicated to sort this failure out.

  6. You know, I had no idea the English bowled. I'm bowled over.

    Sorry, couldn't resist.


I love comments. I always try to respond - either here in the commentbox or by email if Blogger gives me your email address.

Thanks for visiting!