Hard to believe that Rian is already two weeks old; but also equally hard to believe that he hasn't been part of our household for years! It's amazing how right it all feels, and how a family of four feels more full of love and more appropriate than a family of three. I wonder if this happens every time you create a new offspring, or whether there is an optimum number at which it starts to feel blase and repetitive? Is there a kind of exponential growth of joy, where each subsequent child boosts your levels of delight still further? Or would No.7 feel like an imposition and an inconvenience, rather than a welcome addition? I doubt Philippa and I will ever find out, because I don't think either of us is planning to hit anywhere near a half-dozen number of little ones!
I had a chat with Ted today about the World Cup, which kicks off soon (or probably already has, depending on when you read this). He had a very intelligent response to my suggestion that Argentina will win the tournament - "You're a twat."
Apparently, according to Ted, Brazil have the best squad they've had for 20 years, and they have game-changers all over the pitch, while Argentina have defenders who are, apparently, "slower than Beryl's driving."
So there you go.
I don't quite understand the controversy about the armbands that the different team captains will be wearing in Qatar. But all I would say is that, in my humble understanding of the way the world works, you don't influence change in other cultures by swanning into their country, ignoring their beliefs, and forcing your own viewpoints on them regardless of how they might react. But what do I know?
RC 20-11-22
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