Today

Compost for lettuce growing. Probably local garden centre. Good wide open space and only half a minute away!
Pizza. Making of. Simple rustic affair which Mama Corleone would make. No frilly pineapple. Just thick and uneven and dripping in slivered melting garlic.
Telephone for the old dears. Their ancient push button no longer pushes. They are unable to push when requested to do so. Frustration is bad for duffers.
Eurovision BBC1 20:00. To see Josh belt for the UK in Oslo. Great kid, Pete Waterman song....
Scratching my head over American Idol...Crystal lost out to Lee. She was cool though. Expected nothing else from the gracious busker.
Attaching flag to car.

Ta ta!

WINNING ISN'T ENOUGH SAY THE KNOCKERS

Paul Gascoigne was right.

People, so called 'fans' of the England football team DO want us to lose.

Even after winning 3-1 there were still fans and commentators saying it wasn't good enough. Ok, we didn't thrash them them 55-0, but the name of the game is WINNING and we did that. We won. There is no higher achievement than beating the opposition. We do that occasionally. We did it last night. If the men on the pitch intoxicate me with their effortless ball skills then I'd be happy but I'd rather them be as dull as ditch water and WIN. I think the frail hearts of Englishmen can't hack it any more, unless we're 20-0 in front by half time then we've failed! If you can't stand the mud boys get off the pitch. Football is man's game. Er....

I suppose losing makes for better newspaper headlines, makes for red hot phone calls to talk shows and gives the England bashers plenty of ammunition. If we lose then we can all have a go at the lads lacklustre performance and Capello's leadership but for heaven's sake let praise ring out when we WIN! DING DING!!!

Last night we listened to the match whilst shoving the late night lettuce around (John arriving home way past his usual time, blasted trains) and after each England Goal I leapt up because I want my team to WIN. I do not get some kind of sick pleasure out of kicking the England team, even when they play poorly, being a true supporter is like being head over heels in love with a bad'un. You know he/she drives you to despair but you stick with him/her because, for Christ's sake, you love 'em.
You don't support only when they please, you stand alongside them when they fail miserably. That's love folks!

Anyway after getting indigestion (me) we retired to the front room to listen to listen to the rest of the game, and when Mexico slammed one in I shivered. Don't do this to me boys I said, my colourful imagination taking me to places I didn't wish to go. Been there, got the t-shirt, got the war wounds. I didn't need a kicking from another 'little team' who surprised us all by their sweet passes and unbelievable success in the Group of death. Blah blah whatever....

It's true to say that every time, and I've blogged about this before, that every time England get ahead, even by two or three goals, I'm still nervous.
Something ignites the hearts of lowly teams when playing England, don't know what it is, but when the minnows score they take that as a green light to ram a few more in. It didn't happen last night though and so I went to bed with MONTY and slept easily...

This morning I'm thinking about my other current love....

Crystal Bowersox, 24 year old American woman with dreadlocks and imperfect teeth.
You know there are performers, who, without any falsies or whitening or smooth talk manage to make you feel uncomfortable in their presence. She is one such gal.

Her amazing voice is almost too perfect, she's not a Mariah Carey or screamer of that ilk, Bowersox has more than a voice she bleeds when her pipes open.
Watching her singing last week on American Idol, made me wonder what has happened in her young life to enable her to belt so effortlessly.

And then I realized she's just blessed with great vocals and she's poor. And she doesn't give a damn what you or I think. She also has sense of humour borne out of not giving a hoot about regular baths.

Been busking for God knows how long and God knows where, she has a child, has a toothless wild haired old dad who looks like he swears by the bible and just swears. Her exuberant boyfriend looks like her friend as well as the father to her child. I expect they sit on the floor counting money from a cookie jar. Not for long....

If she wins this thing, I hope the money guys don't try to change her. They will of course. It always happens. A cute waitress with a flat chest, bad hair and yeee haaaa country in her blood did well a few years back
and when she appeared on American Idol as a guest she was unrecognizable. Gone was beer swilling po' girl working for 5$ an hour and hello to the augmented wine sipping Sindy doll.

I hope Crystal uses her voice not just to entertain but to hang on to what makes her so beautiful, her dirt.

Rant over.
I'm sitting in a dark blind covered room in my dressing gown wondering about bread and sausage.

I'm also thinking about Sunday 30th May when England play another friendly little team. Japan.
Could be worth a para or two...


Ta ta!