A wet Table of Dreams greeted us as we rocked up on Thursday lunchtime. I don’t think it was overnight rain, but dew instead. Once again we were playing under Tupperware style skies. When it’s grim here, it can be bloody grim.

This all meant for a very slippery table. The non-wind ball had little bounce and skidded whilst keeping low. If this was cricket then my delivery would be unplayable. But it wasn’t cricket. I was wiff waff. I lost 4-1.

After the crappy rain and storms of the day before, Wednesday afternoon had perfect conditions at the Table of Dreams. The air was deadly still. If you stood at one end of the table then you were blessed by catching a winter sun tan. The rain had also washed off the muddy footprints from the entitled local middle class little shits.

GAME ON.

The weather may have been blessed, but as ever, my table tennis skills were a little left field. I actually do have the skills; it’s the focus and concentration that I find hard to maintain. I raced to a 1-0 lead. I couldn’t be arsed to continue with my tactical game of hard and fast, forcing backhand errors. Time for some spin. Time to walk away with a 5-1 defeat.

Oh dear.

Another windy lunchtime session at the Table of Dreams. It was a bit hit and miss tbh. VERY hit and miss, in my case. Aim for the far left corner. Don’t be surprised if the ball lands in the far right corner. Oh hang on - I appear to be bloody winning.

It was also a day for the shades. The Estuary Wilds rays were working wonders on my mid-winter face tan. I should have worn my Speedos. That would have livened up the stiffs, out doing the dog walking thing.

The table itself had more muddy footprints on it. I despair.

Whatever. I won 3-2.

Another wind assisted game at the Table of Dreams. There was no drone action on Monday lunchtime. Instead, we had the almost mechanical sound of a couple of swans flying overhead. Best not to look up. Focus on the game, Jase.

It was a scrappy game. Time was a little tight for both of us. It did include however an epic game that went all the way to 16-14, two clear points to win. I wasn’t the victor, obvs. I lost 3-1 overall.

To the Table of Dreams! …on Sunday lunchtime. Someone else had been there before us. The tell tale sighs were the muddy footprints all over the table. SOME people, etc.

This was a most odd game. We had the company of a fella and his drone which was circling above us throughout the game. I pounced it around a little, keen to showboat my pointless (and I mean POINTLESS) spin shots, just for the camera.

Something very odd then happened. He put down the control unit, and started to direct the drone with his hands. No shit. It was almost Jedi like. He beckoned it towards him, then raised it, then landed it in the palm of his hands. MAGIC!

Elsewhere and a game of table tennis threatening to break out. The local wildlife group also appeared to be gathering ahead of a winter walk.

Drones, wildlife and a 4-1 BATTERING - me, not her. Every day is like Sunday, etc.

To the Table of Dreams! …on Friday lunchtime. It’s been a while since we played an outdoor game of wiff waff. I’m calling this VERY early, but spring is starting to shoot up around us. I’m looking forward to hopefully nine months or so of outdoor table tennis, no wind, no rain.

And yep, we’ve had bloody loads of rain over the past few weeks. Just ask my roof - assuming ti could talk - and the repairs that are now needed. The positive effect of all the downpours was that The Table of Dreams was clean and almost looking box fresh. GAME ON.

We were both a little distracted with other shit going off around us at the moment. Which meant that concentration when it came to scoring was all over the bloody place. Let the record show that I was BATTERED 5-0. I’m always battered 5-0 tbh. But the odd point here and there may have gone a little astray.

The FUCK OFF dog that was out for his morning constitutional was most certainly not a little astray. What a unit! I’m not sure of the breed, but I’ve never seen a dog as large as this. He wasn’t fat, just big. The very friendly owner assured that he is still a puppy. The current daily diet is eight cans of food. TUCK IN, Bonzo.

The game of table tennis continued. But it was still a stop / start affair. I was caught short. I had to have a mad bathroom break to the nearby public toilets midway through one game. I returned more at ease with myself, but still lacking in skill.

There was a young family of four playing at the Table of Dreams when we first rocked up. It was quite lovely to see. The wind was bitter, the temperature was hovering around zero. Any momentary annoyance that we couldn’t get on was put aside. We kept on walking for a brief circuit. It would warm us up, if nothing else.

Fifteen minutes or so later, and the table was clear. The light was fading rapidly. There was just enough time for a brief game under some challenging conditions. It meant that my usual 5-0 hammering couldn’t be played out. I only lost 4-0 this afternoon.

The annual contesting of the New Year Day’s Cup at the Table of Dreams. Much like the Christmas Cup, there is no actual Cup. But that doesn’t make the competition any less fraught.

I tried to focus. Honest. But it was bloody freezing out there. I was distracted by what seemed like an army of dog walkers doing the New Year’s Day dog walking thing.

The scoreline wasn’t looking too healthy when I was 5-0 down. Hey! I know: how about a final decider game with winner takes all? Like a FOOL, she fell for it.

A few trick shots and some crafty spin, led to me walking home with the New Year’s Day Cup. I just need to find it first.

The final game of wiff waff at the Table of Dreams ended in the same way that we started the year: I bloody lost, innit. The final scoreline of 4-1 sounds like a severe beating. Truth be told and I pushed her all the way. Honest.

Time was a little tight. We were playing under fading skies with the bloody Estuary Wilds sun fast disappearing behind us in the woods. One end of the table had a serious light advantage over the other. I would like to say that this impacted me. But we swapped end after each game.

We returned to the standard table tennis ball, rather than the wind heavy version. This led to a game of spin. I bloody love spinning the ball to showcase my skills. So what if it doesn’t always land on the other side of the table?

A gathering of local yoof were hovering nearby. At first I thought they were after a game. I think they were just bored local yoof kicking around, looking for some shit to do on New Year’s Eve.

There’s the possibility of the New Year Cup being contested in the morning. I’m not a betting man, but already my odds are looking a little long.

A 5-0 drubbing at the Table of Dreams for Monday lunchtime. The only score that was bettered was the six layers of clothing. It was pretty dull out there - both on and off the table.