Look at the stars, look how they shine for you...

I viewed, via a telecast, Gloucester’s 10-5 defeat to Bath last evening. The teams were playing rugby football union in the most awfully muddy/boggy conditions which, in my opinion, humble as ‘tis, rendered the occasion a complete farce. Admittedly the Bath club handled the swamp with more thought and skill than my favoured outfit but I am happy to consign to whole occasion to history; on a dry and drained pitch Gloucester would have proved too strong for their West Country rivals. The losing bonus point was, ahem, a bonus. Enough already.

I downloaded a lovely album earlier that I am also purchasing from Amazon for not-so-young S for his 40^th birthday next week. Sadly, as I need to keep it a secret, I can’t reveal the title of said recording. It is a charming item though.

The eye is looking ugly and yellow now. It was upsetting to walk through the broad streets of the county town this morning to find passers-by recoiling and shuddering at the unsightly vision. I know people were judging me poorly. My confidence has been dented.