Friday, August 19, 2005


A quiet pint with S last night ‘down the Ted’. He has settled comfortably into his new abode but I wish that, with a GL2 postcode and an 01452 dialling code, he wouldn’t keep insisting he lived in Stroud. Ah, the ignominy of having to shop in Quedgeley’s Tescos! I look forward to receiving reports of the young gentleman’s foray to this weekend’s Green Man Festival near Hay-on-Wye as I am considering the whole festival scene for next summer. I am keen to return to Camber Sands for another ATP weekend but – and I think last month’s day at Ashton Court has whetted my appetite – I wouldn’t mind an outdoor weekender especially if the whole family would enjoy it. Green Man looks fine and the accent on the folktronic end of the market appeals.

I am trotting to Kingsholm Stadium later to watch our young guns in action. It’ll be my first chance to see Anthony Allen in action. As ever, my optimistic outlook has mentally deemed him to be better than the callow Matthew Tait and I’m already labelling him ‘the next Brian O’Driscoll’. Sadly, my favourite nipper, Ryan Lamb, is on the bench tonight as I always love his attacking zeal and crafty ways. Olly Morgan is at full back and needs a big match to contest the wearer of the 15 shirt against Worcester. I must confess that Jon Goodridge, not my favourite player, looked confident and assured when he came on against Calvisano last weekend.

The chickens have settled in beautifully and now allow themselves to be picked up which was inconceivable a couple of days ago. I have been cooking them a dozen or so strands of spaghetti every day and they adore their daily treat of ‘worms’. They also go mad for budgie food. Hetty and Bela have proved to be lovely pets and it only remains for them to start laying eggs and then they’ll really be paying their rent. The cats are less sure of them (see above).

Tomorrow we set sail for Ireland and a week on the West Coast. It’s a holiday that is eagerly anticipated and I can’t wait to be back in Dingle again, pint of G in paw, listening to some cracking music.