Not a great harvest of photographs today from a slip slidey walk down to The Shore and back up Constitution Street, which culminated with Mr A having a bit of a fall on ice on Jane Street. He seems ok, but I was worried for a moment. And, of course, he's been milking the sympathy vote periodically ever since.
We watched Scotland v Wales, and were disappointed about how Scotland let it go, and thought the sending off was somewhat harsh. But there we go. Players know the rules and they are handsomely paid, these days, for knowing them.
A bolognese for tea and more Simon Reeve. It's been a fairly quiet day. And we're hoping it warms up a bit tomorrow, as this ice stuff is getting a bit boring now.
I forgot to say that I had a nice chat with L yesterday, now settled into a quarantine regime in Bermuda. They start escaping, all being well, on Monday, with progressively looser rules providing they pass their tests and are free of infection. He sent me a photograph this afternoon of him watching the rugby. Wearing shorts. Lucky lad. But wherever he is in the world, he always seems to be able to watch the rugby....