Alex and Josh are our Sunday fencers. They fence with Sabres - rather more violent than the delicate blade work of epee. A rose is beheaded, a piece of acer flies throough the air and I fear for my sculpture. Our lovely clean paving is soon marked with footprints and looking distinctly lived in.
I always have dreams of leaving early on Sunday afternoon and shopping, having a nap and then heading off for dinner. Needless to say it does not happen - we leave late afternoon.