The birthday gift arrived from Amazon yesterday. Even though it arrived within the predicted 3-5 days, it should be understood that the latter will be the actual. Also received second card from spaceswine.com (have decided I am not yet making money enough to fund blatant plugging of multi million corporations. However, have just realised that Amazon may have been given fairly generous mention). The card having been formulated online, over the channel, 'en Francais' has only served to remind me once more that I am quite old. My love to you F and K. Let no more be said about the day.
So here we are. 11weeks of marriage and a few games into the 'domestic' Rugby season. I would like at this point to take the opportunity to voice my concern at the use of the word 'domestic'. Let it be understood that whilst Mr T is off playing with his odd shaped balls (!!) there are no shelves being put up, bathrooms being cleaned and all trips to B&Q (oops) are reserved currently for a Sunday. That Mr Tuckley shows such commitment to one Long Buckby Rugby Club (deserved plug) is commendable, but this 'leisure pursuit' helps in no way domestically. Rant over!
Note: I have just realised that 'domestic Rugby' may only apply to the professional game but I feel it serves to highlight my concern all the same.
Anyway, I do believe that through a sense of marital duty I have become a big fan of the aforementioned Rugby Club. I will this afternoon be cheering from the side lines and my Rugby shirt order will be placed soon.
However, when my Husband was stood in the bedroom earlier musing over the game ahead, he asked what I thought (from a nerves point of view) it must be like to play professional and/or National Rugby. After careful consideration and much thought I exclaimed that he was too old to be either and that if he couldn't stand the pressure, he should get out of the kitchen. My devotion to this man is clear for the world to see.
Come On Buckby!
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