Excuses, excuses

Been doing some basic housekeeping on the computer this week, mainly because the new Professional edition (paid for) of the AVG anti-virus system (€38-odd for two years) is most efficient at picking up instances of the Trojan Horse 'dropper' (among other things) and isolating or eliminating them. However it frequently requires the machine to be rebooted before said isolation can take place. This is OK, as one can always wander off and shave, or put the kettle on, or perform some other postponed task which the Internet has been keeping one from, but of course on returning to the machine a few minutes later, I have to reconnect to the Internet. My Home Page has been Hotmail for several years, but, not needing to check mails each time I log on, I have now opted for the BBC News page, especially as I have one of those keyboards with special keys for things like mail, which brings up the Hotmail page at the touch of a button. Small things, but most computer users will know the feeling of satisfaction at having made a long-intended minor adjustment to the way things get done every day.

So, logging on this morning with my steaming (it has been extremely cold in Madrid) mug of coffee by my side, I was presented with the headlines, which are not all that interesting to me, being about the elections in Iraq. No doubt there are those who will feel that I ought to care passionately about these, but the fact is that I don't, and am mainly thinking, today, about the Charlton v Yeovil 4th Round cup tie later on this afternoon.

Looking at the smaller headings in search of something more interesting, I suddenly spotted the word 'Yeovil', and clicked on to read this fascinating story about a 'white witch' from Yeovil (or maybe Sherborne) called Raquel, who went up some hill or other and performed a ritual to make Charlton's players have "something funny" happen to their legs when approaching the goalmouth.

So there it is in advance. The perfect excuse in case Charlton suffer a not-all-that surprising exit from the cup against a team from the lower leagues. OK., Rochdale were comfortably dispatched last time, but then there was nothing in the media about people called Raquel going up into the Pennines and performing diabolical rituals.

Raquel is, of course, a Spanish name, meaning 'Rachel'. I have yet to discover which of our many locally-based Raquels it was who successfully managed to cast a spell on our quiz team last Monday, or, come to that, which bit of high ground she was operating from. But after a fine run of results, to come third out of four, even with one player out, was a bit of a blow. Well done the winners, though. You know who you are.