Thursday 29 March 2012: England, England
Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot:
Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!'
To be honest, I have a passing interest in Cricket and being English doesn't occupy a huge amount of thinking space but there are occasions when I romanticise the whole idea...
I wasn't thinking this as I tried again to fix the dishwasher this morning although thanks to glicious I can now refer to it as the magic cupboard. I'll file that alongside Japanese babysitter...
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