Not that I haven't spent many happy hours transfixed by the drama of stones moving slowly down the ice knocking other stones out of bright colored circles while my insomniac brain refused to stop....

but watching curling is like watching my lawn die. .

It's so sad, I could cry. I know it happened last year, but I can't remember the day I finally noticed it.

And as a British friend once said about the Benny Hill Show - You're only seeing the best and not the worst.