Why do I always have to be right?

It turns out that I was was right to not be confident that Wales would win their Six Nations clash against England.




1978 a golden era for Welsh rugby. Where are they now!



If I had given it any thought, I'd also have been right about my English rugby playing (in his very much younger days and now coaching) friend Cobbo not being gracious in victory.

Allez les bleus, but not when you play Wales!

I'm off the Irish too, because yet another Aer Lingus dispute means that Tim will have to spend about 14 hours at Dublin airport on his way home from Boston. He was also caught up in a dispute on his way out. 

Note  to self: never fly via Dublin or with Aer Lingus!

Dodgy skirting board man due to come on Saturday morning: he of the 'my oak skirting board does not have knots' school of thought. Not holding breath, but will stay in until midday in the vain hope that he will honour just one of his many promises.

Then ...... I am heading for the shops, without daughter this time, so when Tim finally arrives home we might still be solvent!

P.S. I should make it clear, that unfortunately, the best team (on the night) did win!