The last time I set foot on a rugby pitch to actually play was around the autumn of 1990. Yes that fateful year where my life plummeted into despair. Rugby had been a huge part of my life from aged 8 when I first stepped onto a muddy field at The Downs School near Bristol in 1977. A career of limited success, much mud, cold and rain ended with a torn leg muscle that fateful autumn 13 years later.
Yesterday I took a trip down memory lane and braved pouring rain and generally meteorological mayhem to watch Harlequins at Twickenham. Lovely but cold day out, wet but not too miserable and after much effort the Quins emerged victorious.
So another outing on what has proved to be a pleasant and in the main relaxing escape from the world. That said feeling in danger of once again taking on too much I have postponed a couple of catch ups with friends.
I now have 4 clear days of very little, just to chill. Then on Thursday I will be Cambridge bound. Another trip back into my past. For today I'm doing the usual reading, listening and cooking. Tonight's menu brings a joint of smoked gammon. I did invite my friend Mike but he is very much a creature of habit who only ventures out twice a week so I think it will be an invitation that will go unaccepted.
Perhaps a walk might be plan after the opera, could probably do with the exercise. See you later in the week.
I Heard a Voice.
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