Well the period of national mourning is almost over. I suppose we all knew that it was going to happen, it’s just that the timing is so unfortunate. Only a couple of weeks after the last warning that even he is mortal, it happened – David Beckham is injured! What fantastic irony that in the midst of the 20th anniversary of the Falklands war and with less than a couple of months before the next titanic meeting between England and Argentina, that the major star of English football, should be felled by an Argentinean pre-emptive strike. The initial despair of last night has started to lift, everyone that I spoke to today suddenly knows the innermost detail of recovery times for broken bones in the foot, and they all confidently pronounce "6 weeks, he’ll be ready. No Problem". We will have to wait and see, at the moment it is Argentina 1 England 0.

Last night we went to The Old Vic to see the fantastic Peter Postlethwaite in Scaramouche Jones. It is an epic one-man show as a man looks back on his extraordinary life and the century that he has spent it in. I was a little dubious, as I saw a brief clip of the play on TV, which showed "PP" in full clown get-up over acting to not very comic effect. I have never been a fan of clowns, indeed the older one gets the less funny they become. However, within the opening couple of minutes of curtain up, the snippet I had scene emerged and it was clear that it meant to be a cheesy aside, in stark contrast to the rest of the performance. A gripping and moving piece of writing from Justin Butcher.

Orynthia has had a mad week with work related stuff. She has a short-term contract with an excellent local web company, starting next Monday. It is a really exciting opening. We wait to see what it could lead to.

Shock horror, the football on Monday night went well. I could still walk on Tuesday, well with the aid of a stick anyway – only joking.