Donna and I played tennis again this morning, although that’s probably not an accurate description of what we did. We went to the courts in our tennis gear, anyway. We mainly chatted and apologised to the ever-so serious looking people on the neighbouring court. Tennis is much harder than it looks and actually isn’t much fun. We don’t seem to be getting any better, either, it’s probably genetic, and I don’t think we’ll be doing much more of it. We had to stop eventually anyway as our ball went into some bushes over the fence and we couldn’t find it.
On the way home I stopped at a local park for a walk around the lake. There are many signs on this park, instructing you to not feed the birds, for the contradictory reasons that if you do, they will all simultaneously die of something or other but also that it will also cause them to breed in plague proportions. Other signs infer they will forget how to feed themselves if people feed them. Really? After hundreds of thousands of years of evolution? I do wonder how evidence-based are these signs. People have been feeding the ducks for centuries, and the ducks have always seemed perfectly happy with the arrangement. I believe some people still feed them in some of the less enlightened countries.