Ah, now that was a refreshing day in the garden!
As you can see, not only have I got quite a lot of rubbish to clear up but also I have three (out of four) nice empty beds ready for loads of seeds!

The compost has been soaking in nicely under the cardboard over winter, thanks to the worms. Only a little digging over and raking was required, the beds are so soft! Just need to wait a couple weeks or so for the frosts to stop appearing first thing in the morning. Got some nice plugs and bulbs to shove in the front garden but I daren’t out them in just yet. At least the Rhubarb and the Blackcurrant bushes are doing well! Better get the Rhubard cloched and the blackcurrants fenced otherwise the pigeons (real ones) or That Damn Cat will kill them both again.

I almost forgot, I have more garden chores to do: I need to completely empty the shed, dispose of anything that smells of ammonia, fit my workbench properly inside the shed, put everything left back in the shed NEATLY* and then burn lots of stuff including ancient cardboard. Bloody mice. How very very dare they get into my shed, MY shed, and scoff the last of the lard-cakes I was saving for the blackbirds and then use my entire collection of dust-sheets for a nest/toilet?
Anyway, anyone fancy coming round for a bonfire? Got plenty of poking sticks**. Bring your own beer.

On top of all that, I shall be going swimming once a week at the posh pool not 5 minutes walk from home. I’ll lose these moobs in no time, just you wait ‘n’ see.

‹Sometimes, today being a good example, loves being at home on work-days›

*Or I’ll be punished, aparently.
**All real men like a good bonfire and always, without fail, will poke it with big sticks.

It seems we accidentally participated in this Earth Hour business. Bloody power cut again. Incidentally, I wonder how much of a power surge was recorded on the National Grid when everyone switched their lights back on when Earth Hour finished? In comparison, I wonder how many folk from The Powers That Be now actually give a damn?
Still, Southern Electric have promised to phone me in a couple of days to explain why we keep having power-cuts and what’s going to happen to permanantly fix the problem. Should hope so too, price of leccy these days! Good job we don’t actually use much. I’ve already turned into my Dad and caught myself using the ‘Blackpool Illuminations’ phrase at least once.

Anyway, first GP of the season! FANTASTIC! Nice to see an brand new (and kind of underdog) team putting in a brilliant effort to earn first and second place on the podium! Good to see Mr Button back in the spotlight, too. A much under-rated driver.
Dunno what the bloody hell Vettel thought he was playing at, hooning round the track on just 3 wheels after colliding with Kubica! Nutter! Silly arse got himself a fine of $50,000 for continuing to drive a damaged car!

I should mention that the first race of the season is always my favourite. I used to play* footy with m’fellow travellers in Albert Park on Sunday afternoons followed by going down the pub (The George) to get utterly legless. I’ll probably forget about F1 again until nearer to the end of the season

‹Puts on a bit of Fleetwood Mac. Loud›

*Hah! ‘Play’, he says! More like never got anywhere near the ball in case one of the rough boys tried to remove his shins!

Right. You can poke football where the monkey put his nut. Absolute load of rubbish compared to Rugby.
Thanks to my excellent boss supplying tickets, Tammy and I had a smashing time at the Madejski Stadium yesterday afternoon! We watched the London Irish stuff the Northampton Saints! Well, in truth it was actually a very close game, both teams kept grabbing the lead and the Irish only pulled away properly after the WHOLE TEAM scored a try during a scrum by shoving their opponents and the ball over the touch line!

You can tell from watching a good Rugger match that there’s a lot more hard work involved than boring football. Some of the legitimate tackles make you wince quite easily yet the players involved just get up and keep playing! The atmosphere is better, too. Rugby fans can be trusted to drink booze AND sit next to opposition supporters throughout the game. Didn’t see a single policeman by the way, in spite of an attendance of around 21,500 fans. I suppose there must have been a couple at least but I well remember the Southampton v. Tottenham football match I saw a few years ago. Every goal meant hundreds of hi-viz rozzers would flood the stands and surround the pitch. Madness. What a waste of trained police officers, just because football fans can’t control themselves.

I think I’m not the only one to have a conversion (aha! see what I did there?) to Rugby: Tammy seemed much more impressed by Rugby player’s legs than footballer’s legs, the dirty pervert. You should’ve seen the grin on her face all the way through the game.
Still, never mind: there was a very lovely female streaker towards the end of the game and no-one dared to stop her. All the players just stood and grinned whilst the crowd vocalised their appreciation (and the bloke next to us had to explain things to his 5-year-old son!). Just a pity that cameras are verboten inside the stadium. *ahem*
Heh. The streaker actually had to run toward a steward who was holding his coat out but wouldn’t chase her off the pitch himself!
A streaker? In March? Makes you proud to be British!

Even after the game, all the fans were very polite and considerate and left in good order to get to the St Paddy’s Day party behind the stadium. Unfortunately I was too tired for more Guinness by the end so we just went home. Still, we had a whizzo time and we now know the old saying to be very true indeed: Rugby is a thugs game played by gentlemen, football is the exact opposite.

‹Is now trying to learn the words to Molly Malone›