I am sitting here at my desktop doing odd jobs such as paying bills and booking tickets to things. It’s 8:51 and the first day of school holidays. The pace is off.

I am in the upstairs lounge room, kids area, at silly mid-off as it turns out. I have almost been whacked in the head by a cut shot down the carpeted pitch. The rubber, pock marked ball with coca-cola still vaguely inscribed upon it, whooshes past my ear, deflecting from the 22inch screen and slamming into the newly installed window furnishings.

The antique white plantation shutters clap shut, all at once.

There’s no damage, but I exclaim with some exasperation, “Do you have to?”.

“Yes, I do, I”m playing a match…..your computer shouldn’t be up here” retorts the voice of the helmet clad batsman. He is standing pleased and satisfied, in front of yellow plastic wickets. They obstruct the entrance to his sisters bedroom. She will walk into them when she wakes up and leaves her room, albeit in a few hours time. She will holler and appeal with utter frustration and annoyance, but it will make no difference.

The batsmans’ sister will be dismissed, and the game will go on.

…………………………………………………………………………………………..

None of which has anything to do with my sketches. They are quick observations of the local wicket keeper as the above mentioned helmet clad batsman and his friends waited for training to start.