I'm not sure where the phrase "cutting the mustard" comes from. I would like to say it is English but given the love our American friends across the sea have for hot dogs and mustard I suspect it may come from our colonial cousins. In the folly of my youth I rarely ate hot things. For years I swore I detested horseradish and English mustard. I simply didn't understand why anyone would want to sully beautiful roast beef and ham with such vile condiments.
Now, having just turned 46 I have corrected the youthful errors of my former years and wholeheartedly endorse the embellishment brought to Sunday lunch by horseradish and English mustard. Today it was ham and very good it was too.
On my post lunch Sunday walk I took a little detour to admire the local manor house, see cricket being played in glorious autumn sunshine, some young people with an American football and the local church. After my detour I took the slightly shortened route home and popped in the pub. It must have been a busy week as we have drunk them out of Doombar already and the dray doesn't come until Tuesday.
Back at home I'm listening to Handel's Coronation Anthems. Not the rather overexcited and sharp recording of my youth under Philip Ledger but a later and superior recording under Stephen Cleobury. I cannot really not mention King's now given that David Willcocks the director of music prior to Ledger died this week. I saw him a few times but never actually met him.
Other than I'm just reeling from a weekend of sporting shocks. If anyone ever failed to cut the mustard it has to the Springboks rugby team utterly humiliated by Japan yesterday in the World Cup. It is surely the greatest upset rugby has ever seen. And what about West Ham going away to Manchester City and coming about with a 2-1 victory? By contrast my Rams are surely favourites tonight against the Redskins.
Of course the Rams are not on TV-they rarely are. But I have 3 others games to entertain me though. See you all in the week.
I Heard a Voice.
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