Yesterday was van test day…………it didn’t fail…..it didn’t get that far as it requires a new handbrake cable and everywhere is closed for the duration of the hopping, skipping, blubbing and falling down extravaganza in London.
Whilst waiting for the verdict on the camper I switched on the television. Television has a novelty value for me. I watched Murder She Wrote, a bit of a very strange programme which featured an old lady and an excitable chap of dubious sexual orientation selling an antique diamond ring in an auction room. The lady and her mentor seemed to find the whole process the zenith of exciting experiences……..Like watching paint dry for me.
I swapped channels and found the hopping, skipping and jumping. This was the nadir of entertainment.
First up were two girls in pyjamas who kept patting each others hands then falling over. This they repeated for a while then one won….Thank the Lord!
We then switched to a group of chaps shooting clay pigeons full of red powder. This was much better, Bang-Bang-Puff! It dragged on for a bit but we won…….I use we in the context of the royal we, like 99.99% of the population I can claim no credit. A fat Swedish man was second and an interesting chap in a woolly hat who seemed to be from the Balkans somewhere was third……I think.
It got better, canoeing, this was more like it people paddling their hearts out and raising a sweat and risking being drowned. We won and got second place, the latter they were robbed by us. Time for a comfort break………..for me not for them. A wonder no one appealed……..they were useless sobers.
The coverage switched to rowing……..not at the same venue. Pity really, the sight of a coxless four rowing down a white water course would have been well worth paying to for.
My entertainment was far from over…….ladies and gentlemen bicyclists doing a velodrama in the velodrome. The velodrome cost thirty eight million pounds. I remember this because I was told every thirty seconds by the commentator. Thirty eight million for something that resembles a flattened wall of death. Folk set off peddling as fast as they can one drops out then another and the one at the end is the winner………I think. It’s miles wide and they only use a bit of it near the middle. Scintillating stuff!
It was enlivened by one poor soul falling off, he was one of ours so they let him have another go. It took a while, they had to find him a new bike and a clean pair of socks which for reasons that are beyond me he wears over his shoes, a bit akin to Superman and his knickers. Clean socks?…….I’d have needed a change of underwear if I’d wobbled off in front of all those people. It was time to fetch the truck…………Little wonder there are empty seats.
Today has been much better, early morning mist and a bright start to the day.
Back for breakfast and after a dismal performance with the crossword we set out for a walk along the Tees.
It’s a pretty plant………worth growing at home for decoration and doubly so if one has a cricket bat or requires a new table cloth. For the latter one has to break it, scutch it and heckle it……….worth the trouble if after your labours someone asks what one has been up to……….’Not a lot, a bit of scutching and heckling.’……’Scutch you flax, Rubbish to you flax!’…….Be more entertaining than watching girls play ‘pat a cake’ and then falling over……On second thoughts they did broaden my mind, they do end up in some interesting positions.
It was time for home and lunch and a dog wash……………………………
Have a great weekend……..go shopping. The economy needs you.