Duw, Duw

I feel as wilted as the daffodil on my chest this morning. St David's Day was a triumph to say the least, but hangovers are not saintly or Godly at all. We live and learn...

I'm putting my money where my mouth is and betting that Wales win the Grand Slam this year. Everything is in place!

Go ahead Wales, make my fucking life complete. Let me hold my own in conversation with my peers when rugby talk veers towards the 70's. Give me a reason to look forward. By Jove, we can do it!

I'd be fucking triumphant and I have no compunction in saying that it will be the best thing to happen to my country in decades.

St David's Day on the morrow

I shall be celebrating the day of our Patron Saint, St David tomorrow. I'll report any eventful moments later the same evening. March 1st is almost here!

TWP

We returned this morning at about 3am. The trip was arduous and I still don't seem to have found my sea-legs yet. The briney was a little tumultuous at times but we made good speed on the tide. Our destination, Bierkeller, was a grubby but large venue. The floor underfoot was treacherous and quite adhesive, whilst the beer was expensive yet artificial. Our navigators on the fishing vessel accompanied us from the river into the city and then on to the gig itself. We all agreed that the venue was a little poor, but the music was of the highest order. The Wedding Present it seems have been going for quite some time and have an extensive catalogue of music to call upon. The guitars were of the jingly-jangly variety with the occasional sonic meltdown. The lyrics invoked past times and a mood afflicted me that I hadn't felt since my early 20's. I entered the fray near the front and joined in the frenzied arm-flapping and head-nodding. I was quickly accepted into the crowd and enjoyed myself immensely. The gig reached a fine crescendo after an hour or more and I rejoined Father Gibbon (who had been fighting) and the boat's crew. It appears we missed the oration we went for, but we left feeling somewhat invigorated, understanding that we had seen something we may never experience again. We set out from the river bank and set course for the channel, fabricating a review of our proposed target for the evening.

Next month I shall assess the monetary situation and, if possible, treat myself to a new music system. I feel there is a need to explore this band further.

As an aside, Ireland maintained their tempo to beat England yesterday. What price a Grand Slam showdown in our capital city, Cardiff?

Unbelievable

Allez Gallois!

We are in an euphoric state here on the island. The pub has been open for 30hrs at the last count and even the non-conformist church stayed closed today to continue celebrating. It's impossible to gauge just how important this win was to people (France 18 - 24 Wales). Suffice to say, there are many gaps in people's memories from yesterday, clouded and eradicated as they were by the work of the Rev James.

Today is another day, and an intriguing "mission" has presented itself. A couple of us have to head to the city of Bristol to report on the works of a fellow monk, the Reverend Jason Dempsey. He is a travelling monk as it were, an evangelist of the highest order, affiliated to the Cistercians. Tonight is the closest he gets to us, so a boat has been commandeered with a view to sailing it through the Bristol Channel and into the Avon. The venue is the Bierkeller and an interesting aside has presented itself with The Wedding Present playing a gig just after his oration. All in all, an exciting prospect. God speed us on our way!