It won’t surprise regular readers – Maureen, who’s the numbers person, assures me that we have more than one – to learn that you should treat everything I say with extreme caution.  I’m fond of a fact but they can be slippery things, hard to tie down, even harder to verify, so this blog is more of an opinion thing, designed to amuse, if possible; inform, every now and again; and even more occasionally, make you think.

Today, though, I give you due warning that I could, as the wee pic above indicates, be going potty.  Thursdays are the bin day hereabouts and this week it was the garden and recycling bins, plus the annoying blue bag recently introduced for paper and cardboard for some reason that escapes everyone but the bod whose idea it was.  Anyway, I go out to put the bins away and there’s no sign of my blue bag;  next door’s bag is there, empty, so is next door’s but one and so on.  But no sign of mine.  Bugger.

I come back from the morning dog walk and look up the council website to find somewhere to report the loss of my blue bag, discovering in the process that if your black bin is lost or damaged you have to pay for a new one!  How mean is that?  That doesn’t apply to the garden or blue recycling bins, who knows why.  I decide to hold off reporting my loss – the bin cycle doesn’t end until half past four in the afternoon – and put the kettle on.

Then, lo and behold, I see it:  the missing bag.  It was sitting there in its usual place beside the washing machine, large as life, overflowing with cardboard, on my usual route in and out of the house, impossible to miss let alone walk past several times without spotting it…Duh.

Hardly tucked away and hard to miss. Think it’s the velcro that’s the real bummer.

As you can see, I’ve accumulated a lot of pots over the years but not that many plants – they’ve all died – so at long last I’ve decided to tackle the problem.  The next step is to empty the weed-ridden pots, clean the ones that are still intact – Monty Don recommends just soap and water apparently – and dispense with the ones that are beyond repair.  Then I have to find plants that will thrive on neglect.  All suggestions welcome.

It was the Centenary Trophy on Tuesday, a medal comp, anathema to most  and my score reflected a woeful short game and putting that belied the quality of the putter – the implement, not the numpty wielding it.  When your ball-striking is as dodgy as mine is, you have to rely on your short game.  Perhaps I should find out where the practice area is.

At least I had one or two of those par things and can bask in the reflected glory of bringing in the winner.  Anne plays – played – off 10 and came home in 37 gross, two over par.  Fantastic.

Not much action on the HS2 front.

A couple of days before, on the Old Course at St Andrews, Alex Maguire, from Laytown & Bettystown, played even better, posting a 64, eight under par, the lowest round of the week, to win the St Andrews Links Trophy by five strokes from Albert Hansson, of Sweden.  What could be more special than winning a trophy at the home of golf?  And in such style.

Maguire, who’d just won the East of Ireland Championship at Baltray, said, “It feels great…what a place to win.  Walking up the last, I got my dad to push the trolley up the last hole to have a special moment.  There’s so much history here that I’m delighted to add my name to it…

“My dad and mum love coming out to watch and they’re so proud of me.  They think it’s very special to be over here at the Old Course.  It was their first time here, so to walk away with the trophy here…is pretty special.”

He can say that again.  What a place to win.  A memory to last for ever.

Iconic.  Unforgettable.   [Recounter Media Limited/St Andrews Links]

It’s been quite relaxing not having to make my way from Lichfield to N17 (that’s north London, home of the mighty – !!! – Spurs, for newcomers to this space) every fortnight or so but, heaven help me, I’m really looking forward to the new season.  We have a new manager, an Australian called Ange Postecoglou, who was a huge success in his two years at Celtic and sounds like just the person we need.  The more I read about him, the more impressed I am and I just hope we give him time to work his magic.

Will the sainted Harry (Kane) still be with us?  Who knows.  But at least he’s wearing the new kit in the pre-season pics…

Harry leading from the front as usual but…[Spurs promo]

Sadly, I’m unable to splash out on the new kit because we’re sponsored by Nike and they’re on my banned list – they’ve ticked me off, so to speak; not that it’s made much difference to their profits.  Also, white is not a colour I dare wear often – too easy to get mucky and I’m not a tidy person.  Show me a bit of jam, soot, mud, tea, coffee and I’ll show you a stain.

Mo’s got herself a mini trampoline as part of her fitness regime and I was at a pizza party the other night where the sainted Alice was gingerly testing out a full-size version.  Not sure she was too enamoured.

A cautious Alice lacking her usual bounce.