Apologies to those who are uninterested in the sport, but I feel I have to mention football today, and in particular that game. All I can say is, Rooney you plonker. And you'd think if you were being paid tens of thousands of pounds a week you'd be able to do better from 12 yards. It's quite a big goal, after all.

It's been a busy social weekend. On Friday night we were at the rather posh Lensbury in Teddington for a summer ball. Hideously late finish. This was followed on Saturday night by a 40th party in the new Forest last night, including a barn dance (no comment). This latter party created a dilemma, relating to a certain football match, which kicked off at 4 pm. If we watched the game at home, we'd be late for the party. The only option was to drive down in time for the game and watch it somewhere convenient. We agreed to meet some friends down there, but arriving with 20 minutes to spare we got lost and resorted to catching the game in the nearest pub we could find. It was a rather working class establishment in Christchurch; still, we had a good view of the game, and at least some of our fellow viewers weren't utter neanderthals...

The people hosting the party had a field full of wild boars. One of these unfortunate (and rather attractive, in an ugly sort of way) animals was being roasted in full view of its family. It was delicious. I drove back just after midnight, and it was one of those journeys where I had to shake my head vigorously at intervals in a bid to stay awake. Horrible feeling. No wine to speak of this weekend (I've been drinking beer), with the exception of a really delightful Rose from Torres with lunch today. Almost perfect in this setting.