There seems to have been a lot of rugby this weekend, which Lord H has been glued to when he thought I wasn't looking or was too ill to tease him about it. But actually I like Johnny Wilkinson - for a rugby player (I don't like muscle-bound men), he's really quite cute. And I don't really mind rugby either (though don't tell Lord H as teasing him is such fun) - of all the ball sports, it does seem to be the one where every so often all the teams get together and have sex on the pitch (though Lord H always sighs at this point and says it's a scrum), so I'm not complaining. And they do have good thighs.
Well, I'm sorry to say that today has seen something of a relapse in the convalescence arena (yes, it is easy to tell I have worked in consultancy, sadly ...), which meant I was up all night again yesterday watching TV and doing sudokus, though I did manage a couple of hours dozing on the sofa, thank God. But I did enjoy the late night (well, late night for me) film - Bruce Willis in "Unbreakable". Great stuff - subtle and very clever, with a stonkingly good performance from La Willis. It's funny how much I can't stand the bloke when he's doing his action hero stuff, but when he's doing his quieter, more reflective roles - and actually acting - I think he's as sexy as hell. Ah, there's something about that glorious mix of macho vulnerability that gets me every time. Some day, I shall have to watch "Sixth Sense", as I'm sure I'll love him in that too.
So today Lord H has been to church on his own, doing server duties for the new priest - who apparently was more nervous than a man of his age really ought to be in a new church. I do realise that St Peter's does have a rebellious reputation in the diocese (dark mutterings of bloody St Peter's, always stirring up trouble have been heard in secluded corners at synods ...), but what did he think the congregation were going to do? Riot? Tear him from the altar and pin him to the vestry door as an example? Throw pew bibles if the sermon was bad? Hascombe isn't exactly a hotbed of positive action. Lord H thinks they'll get used to him in the end though and, besides, what the priest does or wants the congregation to do has never swayed the church before. This is the country, not the town. St Peter's is much like the London Symphony Orchestra who, as an old friend who used to play violin for them once told me, inevitably perform the music on the night in the same way they've always done it, no matter what the conductor is doing or what they've pretended to do during rehearsals.
Oh, and I've been very brave today and posted the next section of "The Gifting" (ie the start of Chapter 4) onto the Writewords (http://www.writewords.org.uk) site, as I've been too twitchy to post any for ages. What a wimp, eh? It'll be interesting to get comments, as they always think of stuff I haven't spotted. And at least I've performed my one brave act of the week, so I don't have to worry about planning any more derring-do for the next seven days. Hurrah.
For the rest of the day, I'm going to do nothing. I think today's problem might indeed be that I overdid it yesterday, and am reaping the consequences, damn it. Hell, I am beginning to sound more and more like a slightly fragile Victorian heroine - I expect the doctor will pop round any day now and demand that I be bled to bring the fever down or attach leaches to my forearm. Well, they are thinking of closing the local hospital, as too many people are being cured by it, so we in the Godalming area (which will become known as the "death zone" if the hospital is closed, as we will then be more than an hour away from any help at all ...) must use what means we can find for survival ...
And this week's haiku is:
flu, Lemsips, Vick and coughing.
Thank God for the spring.
Well, there's always hope, eh?...
Today's nice things:
1. Men having sex on a rugby pitch
2. Bruce Willis doing sultry and vulnerable
3. Sudokus (this week, where the bloody hell would I be without them?!)