Six Nations rugby – Page 2

Concentration

I’ve not been quite so well today. Jackie, who is ahead of me in the process of this particular virus, tells me that that is to be expected.

Aaron, who is to finish digging over the rose garden, arrived early this morning and made a significant start. I haven’t ventured out to see his work, which is a shame.

I have mentioned before, how my younger brother Joseph was a constant companion of me and each of my first two wives. When Michael and I returned to Bernard Gardens after Vivien’s death, Joe had to share his Mum with his younger nephew. This meant we saw even more of him. Two of my October 1966 slides, scanned today, feature him playing Pick-up Sticks with Jackie.

There are various other names for this game of dexterity and concentration, one being Pick a Stick. It remains popular today.

The game is begun by grasping the sticks in one or two hands (according to the size of the fingers) and letting them fall on the playing surface. They usually form a pyramidal stack. One stick is used to prod and prise the others free without disturbing the rest. Should you be successful you may take another turn. Should you set the wrong stick wobbling, you have to stop and hand over to your opponent. A tally is taken when all sticks have been loosed. The winner, of course, has the most in their accumulated pile. Given that it is well-nigh impossible for the most careful five-year old, successfully to dislodge the first stick in a stack, I suspect a little discreet placement on Jackie’s behalf, keeping at least some of the sticks discrete and flat on the floor, so her future brother in law could just flip a few away. .

This afternoon we settled down to watch two more Six Nations rugby matches. In the first, Ireland beat Italy 26-3 in Rome. Nothing much happened in the first three- quarters of the game, through which I dozed. The next contest, between Scotland and France in Paris, was rather more enthralling. France won 15-8.

This evening we dined on a Thai takeaway meal from Tesco. The bottle of Marques de Carano that I began on 31st January remains opened and uncontinued in the kitchen cupboard. It may be suitable for cooking now, but when I can next face alcohol with a meal it will be well past drinking.

Fundraising

Feeling a lot better today, I was able to get up early for a visit from a BT contracted engineer. I have to report an improvement in BT’s service. Despite the wait for an appointment for someone to check the Youview box, Spencer, the specialist, arrived on time, carrying a new box in case of necessity. In the event the problem was not in the box itself, but in one of the cables supplied with it. It was replaced and all is now working. The engineer used a tablet for the multitude of ‘paperwork’. This required three signatures from me, all to be made with my fingertip on the screens. All I could produce were disjointed, widely different, squiggles bearing scarcely any resemblance to anyone’s monicker, let alone mine. This is apparently quite normal.

Yesterday BT, the provider with the most complaints, bought EE, the one with the least. Maybe the new acquisition has worked a little magic.

Much as I have been drawn to venture out in the glorious sunny, yet cold, weather I have seen through the windows this week, I am still not up to it, so I undertook more scanning, this time moving forward a couple of decades to an event covered by Chris on 2nd July 1987. Having looked for one of Elizabeth’s ‘through the ages’ series, I discovered that number 69 was from Chris’s series:

As I have a portfolio of 37 prints my brother gave me after the event, I scanned a selection for this post. You may well ask where I am and what I am doing there. Well, I am in a side-street just off Oxford Street in Central London. So close were we to the main thoroughfare that the watchers in the window must have been in an outlet in Oxford Street.

During the morning notices fixed to the bath announced the event and the charity, Westminster Mencap, of which I was a Committee Member, for which donations were sought.

Volunteers poured in the various ingredients and stirred them into the consistency of porridge. It was a pleasantly warm viscous mixture into which the chosen victims lowered themselves for their allotted stints.

Two slang words for a prison sentence are in fact ‘stir’ and ‘porridge’, which fact you may or may not find interesting.

Most people dressed down for the performance. It was Chris’s brilliant idea that I should approach Moss Bros to ask them to donate an ex-hire morning suit, complete with topper, for the event. I therefore dressed up.

The system was two in a bath for, as far as I remember, each ten minute period. My companion was Jane Reynolds, the then Director of the Association. That wasn’t particularly arduous, now was it?

Tubs of rather colder water were provided for a clean up afterwards. There was no shirking that.

Finally, Fiona was on hand with a collecting box, hopefully relieving spectators of the money they had saved in the Selfridges sale on the other side of Oxford Street.

Fish, chips, and peas from the freezer was what we enjoyed for dinner this evening. We then watched the opening match of this year’s Six Nations rugby tournament. This was England v. Wales at Cardiff. England won 21 – 16.

Sold By Spencers Of The New Forest

On a glorious spring morning Jackie drove us to Ferndene Farm Shop in Bashley Cross Road. The ground is drying up and many pools on the roads and heathland receding.
I have before photographed the shelves inside this shop which has the best produce of its kind I have sampled. The produce outside would grace any good garden centre. Like everything else they sell, all the merchandise is in tip-top condition.
A good range of garden plants and wonderfully colourful cut flowers glowed in the sunshine.

Brightly hued primulas were much in evidence.

Daffodils, violets, and hyacinths were arrayed in trays.

Less flamboyant shrubs, heathers, and grasses displayed pastel hues.

The most vibrant palettes had provided pigments for the roses, carnations, and chrysanthemums in the various bouquets. There were also bunches of tulips and narcissi.

Even the compost bags are attractively packaged.

From the farm shop we drove to Milford on Sea and wandered around there for a bit, then checked out Everton Nurseries. You see, Spencers’ sign in the garden of the house on which we have recently exchanged contracts to purchase, confirms that Ferndene Farm Shop, Milford on Sea, and Everton Nurseries will soon be our local resources.

It announces:

The farm shop’s superb smoked ham provided the meat for our salad lunch.
This afternoon I watched two Six Nations rugby matches on television. Ireland beat Italy by a lot and France beat Scotland by a little. Neither game was very inspiring, although Brian O’Driscoll enlivened the Irish performance by profitable flashes of brilliance, and Yoann Huget scored a ninety metre interception try for the French.
This evening we dined on battered cod and chips, gherkins, pickled onions and mushy peas, with which I drank a glass of Bergerac Grande Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon Merlot 2012.