Scotland won – again!

 

It was a thrilling match, right up until the final whistle, with the lead passing back and forth. This is a picture of Alexander and Ketki’s son Thomas, now at Birmingham University (thus, in the heart of England), watching the match at a pub with his mates. That’s Thomas on the left.

 

Alexander and Ketki themselves, of course, were here. They brought a huge television with them, feeling that mine was inadequate for the occasion. Both were wearing Calcutta Cup sweaters of mine from earlier years.  Alexander’s Fair Isle vest is one of the best things I’ve ever done. The television ran on the Internet which seemed a bit like magic.

 

I was exhausted when it was over – the match started late. I was too tired to eat. No knitting today. C. took me to Mass which involved a modicum of exercise. Otherwise I have rested and recovered. And I’ve had an idea. What would Joe and Becca think if I knit the cup and date into the shawl I’m knitting for their baby? (It would mean incorporating a square of st st into an otherwise garter stitch whole, but I think that could be accommodated.) I’ll ask. They might be horrified, being English. Indeed, Joe used to work for the English Rugby Union at Twickenham.  Eddie Jones himself congratulated Joe a few years ago on his performance in the London Marathon. 

But with ’22 not yet finished – that’s Fergus’ sweater – I can’t guarantee keeping up with things otherwise. Great-grandchildren take precedence even over Calcutta Cup wins – i.e., I will press ahead with the shawl whether or not I include the cup in it. And then finish Fergus’ sweater.

 

Princess Anne presented the Cup, as usual. She is a very faithful patron of Scottish rugby. I am sure what we saw was the fake Cup, which normally resides with the team that lost last year. The real one is here in Edinburgh because we won last year. They wouldn’t have taken it to London before the match. Plenty of time for a quiet handover later, if necessary. Which it isn’t.

 

Wordle: I am today’s outlier, with a five. Threes and fours for everyone else. My whole system these days is to enter a real possibility in line three (not a Jean-word), after my two starters. Today I inadvertently failed – the word was all right otherwise, but one of my two browns was in the same position it had previously occupied – and therefore automatically wrong.

 

I did much better yesterday, with a four. For much of the day, it looked as if no one was going to do any better, and Alexander and his sister Big Rachel both needed five. But then Roger and his son Theo undercut us all with threes. My sister – who wrote to me today about hip replacement – stands aloof from all of this, but it turns out she likes to see her husband and son properly acknowledged which is rather touching.