Biking back from Shurdington having had my flu jab, I stopped to extend a welcome to old friends who have just moved into Cheltenham - having been trying for ages to sell their nice house in a village beyond Gloucester. It didn't seem at first glance a particularly attractive swap, but inside is surprisingly roomy, and there's a quiet, decent-sized garden at the back. They will be fine once the dust has settled. An encouragement to us!
This afternoon, Everton trounced Aston Villa 3-0, and my hopes of a re-run of the result of the 1897 Cup Final were dashed. As my 14-year-old Gateley grandfather sat at supper at Ampleforth, the only Birmingham boy in the midst of a crowd of Liverpudlians, a telegram arrived: "Aston Villa 3, Everton 2."
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