Sunday, 29 July 2012

Olympic stars

Today we watched the excitements of 30 seconds of ladies cycling in either direction at Hampton Court. Build up was fab fun, more police motorbikes in the entourage than cyclists in the race. Family Powell came with us and camped in granny mary s garden. we have come up with the idea of camp in my which we need to check no one already thought of. It's such a great idea I do not mind if anyone already has done it! H had an amazing week at international Guide camp this week in the sun. For the sum of £50 she took part in a vast range of activities including rafting, camp fire making, bell ringing for Olympics, It's a knockout, so many crafts I lost count, trip to Paulton's park, camp fire singing, zorbing, magic tricks, and all in the company of 350 girls, including visitors from ten international countries. The weather played ball and she came home smelly and dirty and browner than she went. Having had lots of opportunities myself lthrough guides I am delighted she gets to enjoy better activities than I did. I did caving and abseiling as a Ranger, not done either since but glad I had a go. When I was a guide I did canoeing on the Thames on Monday nights, the weather was always sunny and it was a great experience. Apart from capsize drill. That reminds me that at uni I joined the canoe club briefly but did not enjoy capsize by then. Also learned to play squash and did a sailing course at uni. This was all free, along with pottery. I think you need to pay now. You did not have not capsize in pottery but most of my pots lookekld like they had. I did pottery club at junior school, I made a pot that sank and turned into a Head of a scarecrow. my mum kept it by the front door and once almost used it in self defence when she suspected an intruder. You get a feeling of the quality of my pottery if you know people want to throw it around. Watching the backstroke tonight, I commented 'where would I be now in that race' e.g. Thinking, I would have covered a quarter of a length by the time they finished. However, H knows me better and suggested I would still be fiddling with my leaking goggles.See? it is my equipment that fails me, not my body. Looking at the physiques and ages of lithe Olympic teams, I believe there is still hope, but in the shooting. Or the Greco roman wrestling. That seems to be an inclusive sport, with rolls of flab welcomed with open arms.

Monday, 9 July 2012

Domestic goddess. That's me! Today I swept the floor downstairs, put out the washing twice and sprayed a drysuit wet. I also did some ironing ( shock!) and threw some clothes into the bedrooms of my babies. This academic year, my idea of cooking a family meal has devolved ( opposite of evolved?) to the following checklist:

1. open and close fridge and freezer several times.
2. eat a packet of olives ( not pickled onions, I have 4 jars of those to consume, and I am the only consumer in the house).
3. open freezer again and find several items covered in breadcrumbs.
4. put them in the oven.
5. open freezer again and find a packet of suspiciously bright vegetables, find a pan and unite them, add water.
6... spray everything in gravy or ketchup to enable digestion.
7. snarl off in a huff as forgot to cook anything vegetarian for myself.

Balanced meal - two tins of soup.
Healthy eating - only one takeaway a day.
5 fruit a day - or garlic and a soggy banana in the fruit bowl.

We need a butler, chauffer, au pair, nutritionist....

Previous applicants need not apply. Meanwhile, away from the trauma of domestic challenge, I continue my personal count down to the Olympics with a little mixed cat sailing, ready for the next Olympics  (got to plan ahead!).  In exciting but not death defying windy conditions on a Dart 18 with posh Nick from Whitstable, I managed to stay reasonably well mannered for 6 races, with us consistently scoring mid fleet results until some brilliance in Nick's experienced wind reading mind on the last race managed to score us an 8th place. This was all out of 40, before you ask, not my usual 8th out of 8. Now Nick is a national treasure in the cat sailing world, owning more boats that us and being on the committees of all sorts of sailing related bodies. He is reknowned for turning up late. Even when we gave ourselves plenty of time for rigging and changing, we were still the last boat off the shore. Why? What did he spend all that time in the changing room doing? Determined not to be accused of being a girl who spends too long in the changing room I storm into my wetsuit and bound off down the beach, to find myself pulling up sails etc etc on my own, while, I assume, Nick takes a powernap on the bench in the changing room. I have been in that changing room and I would not hang about a minute longer than vital, for fear of picking up veruccas or worse.  There are serious plans to renovate the green shed at the sailing club into a changing village. I have suggested a massage/therapy room ( complementary service -  perhaps a duty?), outdoor hot tubs and steam room. I suspect we will get a heated towel rail and veruccas.