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Before settling down to an afternoon of vicarious rugby on the television, I wandered round the garden and picked a virtual bunch of varieties of daffodil.
Here it is.
The Six Nations rugby matches were Scotland v. Italy at Murrayfield; France v. Wales in Paris televised by BBC; and finally Ireland v. England in Dublin on ITV.
As is my normal practice, I won’t reveal the results of these games, but I cannot remain totally silent about the second match, certainly the longest and most bizarre I have ever seen. A rugby match lasts 80 minutes. In certain situations it may continue until a natural stoppage after full time. This would normally be no more than 2 or 3 minutes. The first 79 minutes of this contest were most unmemorable. There then followed 21 further minutes, including struggles a few metres from one try line, a certain number of offences, a sending off, some replacements, and perhaps a cheeky bit of cheating involving a team doctor. That will probably never be forgotten.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s spicy pasta arrabiata with mange toutes and rocket salad, followed by tiramisu. Jackie drank Hoegaarden, and I abstained because I had drunk a bottle of Doom Bar whilst watching the rugby.