Howay the lads

It's quite unfortunate that me starting to work in Burton has coincided with their football team's greatest moment. If I started supporting Albion now, it would look like I was only doing it because they're suddenly cool. To be fair, it's not such an amazing achievement. There's a long-standing sort-of-tradition of good clubs drawing away at bad clubs and thrashing them at home in the replay - it gets a bit of extra money and TV coverage for everyone concerned, and while that's a much bigger deal for Burton Albion than it is for Man U, I don't think they're too upset that their reserve team didn't manage to win today.

Anyway, I probably should be writing about the party I went to this weekend - it seems terribly ungrateful not to, and to just sit here writing about the football match I saw brief highlights of this afternoon. It was great (the party, not the football), and so was Crispy's mum's house - it's a picturesque little stone cottage in a picturesque little stone village, and the inside is so clean and pretty that I can't quite get to grips mentally with it. Not having grown up in a house where cleaning was a regular activity (and currently living in a flat where it never happens at all), it always flabbergasts me to come to a house where someone hoovers, polishes, dusts, tidies things away and so on on a daily basis. I don't know how anyone can do it.

They've even got an Aga, for crying out loud! I've never seen a real one before! I was quite overawed by the whole thing.