Cymru am byth!

Congratulations to the Welsh on the Grand Slam: two in three years is very impressive bearing in mind that the Welsh teams of the seventies came up with three Grand Slams and ever since have been looked on as representing the golden age of Welsh rugby. It was fitting that Shane Williams should score the try that marked the turning point in the match against France: he makes things happen when the ball comes his way.

England's second place may be the best finish since 2003 but losing two matches in a season means that it still feels flat. Could Ireland be starting a period of relative decline as the generation of Brian O'Driscoll and Ronan O'Gara fades away?

Anyway, the days are getting longer and thoughts start to turn to the smell of newly-mown grass and the crack of leather on willow...

St David's Day

In years past when I was often in Wales at this time of year I usually noticed signs of daffodils patriotically trying to make an appearance by St David's Day: this February however I was more struck by the appearance of reasonably priced strawberries - of course from Spain - in supermarkets. In Marlowe's Dr Faustus there is, if I remember right, a scene where Faustus produces grapes for a lady: he explains to her that he has a demon to fetch them from a part of the world where they are in season. As perhaps do we. Is it a yielding to temptation to choose strawberries as a treat in February? An orthodox economist would say that a deal that is freely struck shows that each party gets something of more value to him than what he surrenders. Others say that the externalities of the means of distribution are not fully accounted for: the pollution released into the atmosphere by the planes and lorries used are not fully reflected in the price paid by the shopper. Something different strikes me: that what was a summer treat in my boyhood is now a part of my diet almost all year round. Perhaps if I want a real summer treat it will have to be plucking the strawberries in my own garden.