Cricket

As you all (all five of you, I suppose) know by now, sometimes when I'm not sure what's up, I go visit my grandfather in Harrogate.

I went North on Saturday evening, after that *ugh* Gwen insulted my diary (while she has that stupid video blog, like some sad person), and thinking she's better than me.

Just because she went to St. Andrew's doesn't mean she's better than me. My University is just as good.

AND WHAT IS UP WITH HER GUSHING OVER ERNEST?

Hands off.

And normally when I go to grandfather's, he makes me feel better by telling stories of ye olden days, and taking me out to lovely restaurants, and having his lovely friends over for tea.

But all of Sunday he was pre-occupied.

Yes, so my grandfather lives in Yorkshire. He's from Yorkshire.

That still doesn't mean he ought to spend his entire day watching sports.

And it wasn't even a one-day-thing-

He was watching the England v India test, which was on its third day on Sunday.

Don't you get sick of three days of the same sport?

I mean, I quite like cricket. I don't understand it entirely because even though grandfather tries over and over (pun intended) to explain it to me, I just - don't. Sports aren't my thing. But it is quite soothing to watch, and some of the players are really rather handsome. Especially in those cricket whites. And I love it whenever grandfather takes me to Headingley for one of those one-day matches, or T20 (though he's not too keen on T20, he calls it fast food cricket), though he hasn't done so in ages.

But three days to watch the same game? Eh.

But that Gwen, that Gwen, she's just-

Grandfather said it right when I told him the whole thing.

She's just not cricket.