Four videos and a rant

I'll warn you right now, this post is a bit of a mix. And I'm still deciding how much of my hoarding I want to share while weighing up how bored you might get of all my reminiscing. But that's not important right now.

[Sorry the videos cut across the side bar. Hope it doesn't impede your viewing too much. And sorry the first one starts straight away. Good job they all don't. That would be video carnage.]

Video 1
So first things first, a funny cat video. Who doesn't love a funny cat video?! Not me, that's for sure. Please enjoy this offering from The Telegraph. I particularly enjoyed seeing Simba himself as a walk on extra in this one.




Video 2 and a rant
Seondly, I can't not make mention of the World Athletics Championships. You know me, I like a bit of athletics and I love the BBC which is why I was disappointed to discover than Channel 4 won the rights to the IAAF Championships. Gutted actually. I went from being excited about the Championships to, well, not. And with some justification as this second video shows, the anchorman just wasn't up to it. I think this is all from the first day and in fairness, he did get a bit better before he was 'demoted' yesterday (and by demoted I mean axed). However, asking Michael Johnson if he's ever tried the pole vault probably isn't the best line of questioning without having some indication of a cracker anecdote he has.

Anyway, try to watch it without cringing.

   

It makes me appreciate Sue Barker and the master, John Inverdale, all the more.

So now that they've lost Ortis, why is it so terrible? Well there's the adverts. I know that how the BBC works is from the licence fee and how the others work is from money from adverts. But really? Back from a break and one 400m race and back to adverts? And so help me if I see that Clio advert one more time...

And I miss Phil Jones trackside. The woman C4 have isn't very good, a bit patronising and probably because of the rush to ads, comes across abrupt with the athletes. I miss Steve Cram too. He sees things the average viewer or indeed, the camera missed.

There have been a few good things about the coverage. We don't get the little hamster, Colin Jackson, nodding along to everything Michael Johnson says (but happily still get Michael Johnson). Neither is Denise Lewis there to add in cliches. Katherine Merry is very good and Dean Macey is brilliant at the field events, mostly because of his excitement! And he called the 110m hurdles right (the tangle and why Lui Xiang hit the last hurdle) immediately afterwards which C4's actual commentator didn't see apparently. Well, can't blame him, it all happens in 13 seconds. However, keeping an eye on the two British athletes you'd think would be key for the British broadcaster of the Championships. Not so much though, as we got told 'Andy Turner finished some way down the field'. He didn't, he finished fourth and then got promoted to 3rd when Robles was disqualified. That said, Dean Macey's grammar isn't great, sorry I mean cracks me up, but I shouldn't complain. Not just anyone can do TV you know, as poor Ortis showed.

Video 3
Thirdly, a video from UTV (for which you have 23 more days to enjoy). I'm not a UTV kinda girl (see above re. BBC) but Nicky told me to watch this video. I did and I wasn't disappointed. It's pun-tastic just the way local news should be.

 
I imagine there was a lot of high fiving with the cameraman when he came up with another cow pun to include. And I particularly enjoyed the job title of 'Cow Rescue Specialist'. Apparently it's five more rescues til he gets 'Expert' status.

Video 4
Like I said, I like BBC and BBC Newsline is no exception. Donna, Noel, Jackie, they're like family to me now. Not to be outdone by their rivals they had their own animal interest story about an abandoned donkey with hooves that had grown into elf feet (I don't think that's the technical term).

I encountered donkey neglect during my Methodist publication research last year (blog posts here, here and here) because the Irish Christian Advocate used to have an advert from the USPCA or some such about it with this photo.

The advert appeared with amazing regularity. 

I'd take a few Florida Apartment or Flower Show ads any day over a Donkey Elf Feet picture.

Anyway, back to the report. Because it's the BBC I can't embed the video but the link is here. Do please enjoy it. My own highlights are:
- his name. I've said it before, animals shouldn't have human names. Johnny the donkey? Are you kidding me? The report also mentions Brian the donkey. I promise I'm not making this up.
-the 'photographer lady knowing the feet weren't right'. When you see the video I think you'll agree she is the winner of today's No Shit Sherlock Award. Congratulations to you, Photographer Lady.
- the fact that a few years ago it was 'chic' to own a donkey. Seriously? Not quite a chihuahua in a handbag, is it?

If you didn't see it live, you'll also have missed the reporter holding Johnny's cut hoof like it was the most normal thing in the world. Put me right off my Milky Bar dessert I can tell you.

Post match analysis

TinaLostInSpace took a small break last week, ok for most of last week. I'm back on task now though. I'm sure you're delighted. Most of the roof space is tidied and stuff has gone back in (I still need to do a few blog posts about other great finds) and I must be getting into it because I've started into the spare bedroom which houses everything from NC, Singapore and since. It was also in a pretty dire state. Sure, things were in boxes, largely according to time frame and genre but there was so much in there that you couldn't easily get to anything let alone find it. I think I just came home, piled the stuff in the room and closed the door.

Anyway, the purpose of this post was to write about the weekend. It started with Mexican food and ended with watching about five episodes of Mad Men! And in between David's birthday present finally came...international rugby at Lansdowne Road, sorry the Aviva. Whatever.

So, Ireland were playing England in their last warm-up match before the World Cup. And it seems they could have done with a little bit more time to warm-up. But they're off now to New Zealand. One hopes they get it together there instead.

The match started in the customary manner with the anthems. There was a lot of flag waving.

Oi! Get yo' flag out of my face. Ra ra Ireland though.

Things didn't get off to a good start for Ireland.

 At half time we (and by 'we' I mean me) messed about taking photos. This one was the best.

Happy birthday brother!

In the second half things didn't get much better for Ireland. Or any better at all. In fact, things got worse.

That's the one that hit the post. Dammit.

It seems I have taken a photo of Jonny Wilkinson's butt.

There had been a bit of drizzle during the game, it was nothing us hardened rugby fans couldn't take. At about sixty minutes the heavens opened. Like full on downpour. I know it was at sixty minutes because I remember thinking we'd only have twenty minutes to endure of the rain.

I didn't have wet look leggings on, I had the real deal.

I can't really explain how heavy the shower was. At one point David asked whether there was someone behind us with a bucket of water. That was a not altogether unreasonable question.

My seat mates all left. They're not hardcore like us, you see.

Here's a little known fact stadium architecture fans: that roof is painted on.

What's that you say, push the button halfway down to focus? That was nearly a super photo. Nearly.

 At home I watched the highlights of the match and was excited to see that made it to the TV.

It is us. Honestly.

So Ireland lost, but I'm still chalking the day up to a success. I didn't run down the street to get a free condom. Not that I would do that ever. Ok, once, once I did that. Shut up.

Today, tonight, tomorrow and yesterday

My road trip down memory lane continues. Excitingly, tonight I put my first boxes back in the roof space - a box of hard back books and a box of paper backs. There are some more boxes more or less ready to go back in, but I'm going to need more plastic boxes to complete this mission. Which'll mean another trip to Ikea.

Tonight I moved on to the piles of files of school notes that I thought were ready to be boxed only to discover that they were actually of notes I didn't want to keep that should have gone to the dump at the weekend. Oopsy. But in amongst them I found gold! An essay given to me by my Form 3 Chemistry teacher.

I know, essays in Chemistry in Form 3? But it may surprise you to learn that is was a punishment essay! At this point I feel the need to tell you that I never had so much as a lunchtime detention in school so it even surprised me that I had a punishment essay. Then as I read it, it all came back to me. I think the story was that we were supposed to finish off a drawing of apparatus at home for the next class, but it was one of those times when the teacher said it quickly at the end of class (because he'd planned more work than we'd actually done) and only a few people heard him. I was one of the ones that didn't and thus, I was given a punishment essay. Oh the shame. I think I even had a moral dilemma when I got home as to whether or not to tell my mum about it (and I have a feeling, after David's reassurances that she'd never know about it, I didn't.)

If you went to BHS you'll probably already have guessed the teacher in question. But for everyone else, he's best summed up by his nickname, Killer. And not without merit (well, not actual merit, I don't believe he ever killed anyone). The essay we were given was 'Today is today and tomorrow is tomorrow'.

This sort of thing was just up his street. He liked to give pointless essays. It was frowned upon even in those days, but Killer didn't care. He was the man who would spend three-quarters of a double period talking about cricket, school, life, anything at all really before realising we wouldn't have time for the experiment and he'd just tell us what we would have seen happen. I remember one question he often used to ask to class (rhetorically I might add) was 'if there was a rocket out there on that cricket pitch who would get on it?'. To be honest, it's a miracle I ever passed Chemistry.

[I mentioned Killer once before on here before, for his other famous attribute: his handlebar moustache. For balance, I should also point out, he was one of the nicest teachers to me when I was back there as a student teacher.]

Anyway, all that is by way of introduction to my one side 'essay'. Remember, the game was to say it in more words than necessary to get to one side quicker.

Today is today and tomorrow is tomorrow
'Today' is very difficult to communicate. The dictionary describes it as 'this present day' ie that day that is actually happening now. The word is sometimes used in a broader sense to mean 'nowadays' or 'these days' or even 'modern times'. But in its general form of meaning 'this present day' it is a reminder to us of how time passes. 'Here today and gone tomorrow' is a well known  saying which again shows us how important to use your time each day to your best advantage. If you don't take the opportunity that today offers, you may not get that chance again. The circumstances can change, the same situation may not come again.


'Tomorrow' in its broadest sense means 'in the near future' but is usually taken to mean 'the day after today'. The expression 'tomorrow never comes' is often heard. It suggests that the things left 'tomorrow' never get done. I have the opportunity to do something today, but by the time the next day arrives, I may not have as good an opportunity, and by that time the chance has passed by into 'yesterday'.


Yesterday I could have completed a chart and didn't, thinking that tomorrow would do. But when tomorrow arrived it was already too late and now I have to write about today and tomorrow tonight. Now if I'd had to write about 'tonight' or 'yesterday' I could have used the words of a song or two!

Now, is it just me or does that essay finish much the same way as the majority of my blog posts, a sort of attempted witty summary sentence to round things up?

It seems that ending my blogs like this was written in the stars.

Or at least in the stupid punishment essay.

(Did it again there, didn't I?)

Old glasses parade

"Oh you know Tina...tall with glasses".

I know this is probably how people describe me. And why not? Both those things are true, afterall.

I've worn glasses since I was in about P4 or 5. I remember coming downstairs from reading and telling my mum my eyes were stingy. Ever the good parent she took me to the optician and I got my first pair of glasses. A nice blue plastic pair.

In the early years I didn't wear my glasses all the time, just for 'reading, the blackboard and television' so there are hardly any photos of me with those early glasses on. Once I reached secondary school, I started to wear them all the time. I can't remember if I was told to or I couldn't be bothered with the on-off routine anymore.

This week I've come across quite a few old pairs and I knew I would have to put them on here. But there's a danger in doing that. So I put them in a movie to limit that. I'm all for laughing at my old glasses, but let's laugh together folks!

I've also come up with a few terms and conditions of watching the movie. 

By watching this video you promise that:

1. You will not take any images from this movie

2. You will not use this movie or any images contained within it to embarrass me.

3. You will not print any images used in the movie for any purpose.

Don't think I won't hunt you down if you break these rules!

That said, if you can agree to these three points, by all means click play. Enjoy!

Can I get my diary badge now?

I never kept a diary. Or so I thought.

The great roof space clear out of 2011 reveals that for three years I did attempt to write a diary. I think this was mostly because for Christmas 1988, 1989 and 1990 (I was P4, P5, P6 and P7 during these years) I got the Brownie Guide diary. 

It wasn't your typical 'Dear Diary' sort of diary. More a diary your keep appointments in. What appointments a Brownie is supposed to have, I don't know but that's neither here nor there at this point.

At the beginning of each one was about twenty pages of 'activities'. 1989's was the only one I attempted to complete. Perhaps the work I did indicates why I never completed any other pages.

I see I let my imagination run wild with how Brownies might look in 2014.

Not so much an 'interesting clock' as 'just a clock'.

Now, I'll say write from the start I wasn't very good at writing often in my diary, illustrated by the fact the first actual entry in 1989 comes in March.

It seems nothing diary-worthy happened until the big news of red nose Day and the fact that my best friend Laura might come up to my house on Saturday. Not sure what exactly I've drawn there on Wednesday. Some sort of hammer handed man by the looks of it.

I wrote down family birthdays and my own, of course.

Good spelling. And ever the child royalist it's good I was celebrating the Duke and Duchess of York's third wedding anniversary.

That's all the big events of 1989! 1990 started off better with the first recording coming in January:

Wednesday 3rd January

Today is the last day of the holidays

WE started Ink today

Wednesday 24 January
We had snow today (it was fulley)
(I can only assume I meant fluffy.)

Thursday 25 January
I had sore legs

Friday 26 January
I was off with sore legs

Saturday 27 January
Went to carrickfegus got mini piona and play clay
(and by 'piona' I mean piano. All the right letters, just not necessarily in the right order. I think I got these because I hadn't been well.)

Wednesday 7 February
Laura said she liked heavy metal and it could only be played loud
We had miss beaston
(Laura and I were forever falling out. I think we fell out over this because I knew she didn't really like heavy metal. No clue on Miss Beaston. A sub? Great name though.)

Thursday 8 February
We had her again

Friday 9 February
and again

Sunday 11 February
Nelson Mandela was freed from jail after 30 years in prison

Wednesday 14 February
We gave Allister L cards for a joke 
everyone went woooo

Tuesday 27 February
I had 3 big big pancakes


Thursday 1 March

we had icy snowy stuff 

I did not sleep a wink 

went to docters

Friday 2 March

I was off school

I went to docs

wee bit about 7-8 hours sleep

Sunday 4 March
fourth rail bridge 100th birthday
(Must have been on Blue Peter.)

Tuesday 13 March
We had Mr Gray
He shouted at me cause I was talking to Laura

Wednesday 14 March
We had Mrs Powers (uuuh)

Thursday 15 March
A junalist was hanged because he was thouted to be a spy.
(I really did always like current affairs. Spelling and grammar, not so much.)

Friday 23 March
Mum went to a course

Sunday 25 March
She came back

Monday 26 March
I counted how many words I have in my English book 2
I have 2808

That's where 1990 ended. I must have known myself I had reached a low point in my diary keeping.

Christmas 1990 brought a new Brownie Guide diary and a new attempt to document my life. Well I say that, but the first entry doesn't come until March. Again it was Red Nose Day that prompted me.

Friday 15 March
Red nose day 3
THE STONKE
7.25pm - 2.30am
Saw 7.25pm - 11.00
(I don't know why I thought it was important to write down my viewing hours.)

Wednesday 24 April
I was in the play
I played a nurse and the recorder
Miss Cathcart came to the play (student teacher)
(I have no memory of this, except getting my hair cut that afternoon (in Hair We Are, Whiteheaders!))

Those were the highlights of P6 it seems. There wasn't anything else until my birthday. Now, two years later would I be able to spell it right?

My Birthday
Very inporten
(Oh you had to push it Tina.)

It's perhaps no surprise that I returned to my diary in September to mark another big event.

Saturday 14 September
Space shuttle Discovery at these times:
20.56
22.37
12.11 (and will be flying for the next 3 days)

Sunday 15 September
I saw it
all excited
It saw it 12.30-12.35
I saw a green flashing light shaped like a pepsi or coke bottle
(Yeah, it was either that or the flight coming in from Heathrow that night was delayed.)

Friday 11 October
I did the 11+ today. It was o.k

Thursday 17 October
Todd Landers left for Adulade and Neighbours
(Really Tina? Neighbours updates?)

Sunday 20 October
I became a vetation today
Nobody thinks I will keep it but I will.
We got our caps and stuff taken off us because of Keith
(The problems came from not liking vegetables. Or vetables. And I don't know what Keith did, but Hallow'een was a big deal for us - we'd make bangers and sparkler bombs. Actually, maybe our caps being confiscated why I still have functioning eyes and ears?)

Monday 21 October
Kerry was shot in Neighbours

Tuesday 22 October
It was confirmed that she was dead

Friday 25 October 
Todd was in Cody's house
he ran away
(Slow news week, eh Tina?)

Saturday 26 October
Karen and I had a mini mini game of hockey 4-1 to her
(Karen of marathon and photography fame.)

Sunday 27 October
They knocked down the front of the Post Office. I'll never forget it. People are wiping out the history.
(I was absolutely incredulous at this. I even detailed how the 'old' Post Office looked.)

Saturday 2 November
Australia won the Rugby world cup 12-6 at twictaham
Mum went to Eire
('twictaham', bless. But seriously Tina? You referred to it as Eire? Also a point to note: dad went away for work a lot so that never registered with me and my diary.)

Monday 18 November
Mummy's birthday
Terry Waite was freed after 1763 days in captivity

Monday 25 November
Freddie Mercury of Queen (rock band) died last night just 24 hours before he announced he had Aids 
He knew beforehand
(I loved Queen when I was little, well David liked them so so did I. I remember being quite stunned at this, that it was all quite sudden. He was sick and then, bam: he died. A fact reflected in this entry, I needed to know that he knew he had been sick, that it wasn't just as sudden to him as it was to me.)

Saturday 28 December
Mum had a house warming party, it ended at 1.30 Sunday.
(This party was legendary in the Park for years after. I don't know why, I don't think anyone got drunk. It was probably the last time anything 'community' ever happened in our street. Unless they've all been having parties without us?)

Tuesday 31 December
New Year's Eve went swimming with Laura

I love that they are just a junior version of me now, with the interest in big events and things that I do. They're like a very early version of my blog! What's really surprising is that I checked the dates of the news stories I wrote about and they're all right! Even the number of days Terry Waite was held for is right. Must have been my historian genes shining through.

I thought that was it for my diary until I came across a 'poem' right at the end I think I must have written. I hated poetry in school but it probably does sum up my feelings pretty well on the 11+.

When Lineker is scoring goals
And Faldo is putting on the green
When Moorhouse is in the pool
And Christie is training
What am I doing?


All for 200 misely questions
All for 1h 40 min work
All for grades 1 or 2 or 3 or 4
That's what I'm doing

Profound Tina.

Just wish I could say the same for the Neighbours entries.

Lost in space

Well fresh from getting over how long my legs are (I worked out what caused the revelation of my leg length; it's because you can't see my hips in that photo.) I started the task that I have been long threatening to start, like since last 2008: tidying my eaves. Oh dear goodness.

When my parents got our roof space converted for our bedrooms the pitch of the roof gave us space beside our rooms so David and I had space to store things. You'd think that'd be a good thing. Nope, turned out it was a bad thing, as it appears that since c.1992 I have thrown nothing away. Nothing.

This is what my eaves looked like. Dump. Highlights in this photo include my French files, Wallace and Gromit clock, squash racket (I never even played squash!), first year art box, Tufty Top cycling helmet box and a book on Princess Diana.

The things I found ended up being so ridiculous I started tweeting them under #TinaLostinSpace. But even at that, I couldn't tweet everything because I'm sure I would be unfollowed by people. So instead I am turning to my blog to write about the things I found. Such treasures they are.

That's right, that's Jimmy 'Jim'll Fix It' Saville's autograph there.  He spelt my name Teena.  I shouldn't think that's cool, but it kind of is.

It goes with this picture. So many things going on in that picture. The kilt. The stick. The glasses. The thumbs up. The bracelet. His expression. Our expressions. He actually makes us look good.

There was also a little store of our Primary School magazine, The Seagull. I took photos of the work I had published.

I had to send this to Jill. Goodness, it would bring a tear to your eye. Well, except for that bit about my fragility, that's just funny.

That is some neat handwriting for a P3! It must have been that which got it in the magazine. Goodness knows it wasn't the drawing of the combine harvester.

'I promise to do my best, to do my duty to God, to serve the Queen and to help other people and to keep the Brownie Guide Law.'

Once a good Methodist, always a good Methodist.

Nearly complete too. If you happen to have 5, 6 and 122 I'd be most grateful. Also found my World Cup stickers. I was big into stickers.

Remember the days of song sheets for Mannafest? Also found the song book for Summer Madness 1995 and 1996. Shut up, there were no data projectors back then.

Just incase you're curious as to who spoke when.

That's right, that's the original Toy Story. I had a thing about cinema tickets, I used to put them on my wall. I also found tickets for Goldeneye, The Truth About Cats and Dogs, Apollo 13, Twister and practically any other film that came out in 1995-96.

I fully expect to find every edition of Sugar and Bliss I ever bought.

A poster from Bliss. I wasn't that fond of him actually. Still it's good I saved it all these years.

This guy was on the other side. I have no idea who he is. I even looked at his Wikipedia and I'm still none the wiser.

This was in my Methody box of memories. This was in their early days (2002).  In another box I also found a flyer for Halcyon Days at Summer Madness. I don't think I went. Again, good I kept it though.

Still to come: excerpts from my diaries 1989-91 and my old glasses. Oh glory.

Tina Long Legs

I got a birthday present in the post today - a lovely book of skiing photos and memories from Megann. It's a really great present and one that I'll enjoy looking at again and again.

It ended with a really great montage page of us on various different slopes and Megann wrote:

No matter of we are breezing down greens or struggling down blacks, repeating favourite runs or getting lost on a new side of the mountain, skiing in five layers or getting a tan on the slopes, we never want this run to be our final run or this year to be our last!

I couldn't have said it any better.

Anyway, aside from that there was one picture which made me look twice.

Me in downtown Denver our first year there. (I'm leaning on the cowboy's saddle.)

Why'd it make me look twice? Well, it made me realise that I do have quite long legs. I know, I'm 5'10 (ish). I don't know how I didn't realise before.

Travels with my mother (part 2)

I don't know, you wait years for a mother-daughter trip and then two come along at once. This trip was inspired by last year's Wimbledon trip. Mum has watched Wimbledon forever, well she doesn't remember Fred Perry or nowt, but a few years anyway. So this year it was my great pleasure to announce that once again I had tickets and mum was in! Way to score Daughter Points, Tina!

So at the end of June we were off. In order to make it a real trip we, of course, scheduled a trip to the theatre. Mum wanted to see Billy Elliot. Happy with my points from obtaining tickets, I vetoed it. We settled instead on Pygmalion. Sure the dancing and songs aren't as good, but the acting and the writing?! Tip top. Rupert Everett and Kara Tointon were in it, and they were ace. I tweeted afterwards that it reminded me of being in Mrs. Brown's English Lit class only with better actors. Actually, I can't be absolutely sure we ever acted it out, all I remember from Mrs. Brown's English class is her furiously writing notes on the blackboard, us geeks at the front writing them down and girls at the back asking if we had any magazines to read. Active learning my ass.

The next day we were off to SW19. It was men's quarterfinals day. On Centre Roger Federer was playing against Jo-Wilfred Tsonga and then Andy Murray against Feliciano Lopez. If you know my tennis preferences at all, you'll know I'm not greatly fond of Federer. He seems a nice enough man, sure. Til there's a record to be beaten and out he comes with his specially made jacket with his big RF all over it to wear for the presentation. What a big head! You also might know that I love Rafa Nadal. A lot. But that's not important for this story, he was playing on Court 1.

We went to the same entrance that Ruth and I used last year so Mum could see what it's like courtside.

This man appeared through the door. I don't think he plays on the tour.

Then we hung around the Press Centre. Right beside Roger was warming up.

You can imagine my excitement.

Martina Navratilova and Jana Novotna were playing on Court 18 and so we waited for them to walk past. While we waited I got talking to a man in a shirt and tie. Throughout the course of our conversation it emerged he worked for the ATP as an announcer and used to umpire matches (including some of Navratilova's wins at Wimbledon and Stefan Edberg's win in the 1980s). He was a super nice man and we had a lovely chat.

All the while we were waiting there was a young fella walking around. Only later that evening we realised it was future British star Liam Broady. Should have taken a picture of him. But he hadn't beaten the world number 1 at that point!

Honestly, you hang around for twenty minutes and then a stupid woman with a ponytail walks infront of your photo of Martina and Jana. I'm shaking my fist at you Ponytail Lady!

 Before too long we were back to Centre Court, ready for play to start.

The royal box was getting full. It was exciting to get texts from Ruth watching at home, telling us who to look out for. Such celebs as Amanda Holden, Les Ferdinand, Greg Norman, Lewis Hamilton Michael Caine, and Sir Cliff. Then the exciting news came through that Pippa Middleton was there! It quickly became apparent she wasn't in the royal box, but with only a red dress to go on it took a while to find her. But find her I did!

I lent her that red dress.

Oh yes. There was tennis too. We didn't have a spectator meeting beforehand or anything, but there was definitely a feeling that the big match that day was going to be the Murray match. Well no one told Tsonga that. After coming out and losing his first service game and the first two sets he woke up. Bam. It was a brilliant match, and not just because he was beating Federer.

Please enjoy this video of match point. Whooping, hollering and shaky camera work included. But look at his little victory dance. Bless.

Like I said, no one really expected it to be as good a match as it was. Or that it would go to five sets. By the time Murray came on, there the court was about two-thirds full. I, myself, went out during the first set. After some crap directions to the bathrooms from an employee I chanced upon this view of Henman Hill.

Bunged.

Murray made short work of Lopez and was soon walking off, safely through to the semis. 

He passed by our old seats. Still, I'd have Rafa's autograph any day over Murray's. No offence, like.

To finish the day off with we had some doubles. Todd Woodbridge and Jonas Bjorkman against Cedric Pioline and Barry Cowan. Yes, no I'd never heard of him either. Apparently he was a doubles player back in the day.

Boom.

And so that was that.

A good day was had by all.

Except for possibly my mother, who got food poisoning from something that day. Though she'd probably prefer if I didn't tell that story I will say it's miserable to be that sick away from home.

The next day I went into London town by myself. I had about two hours to walk around. But I consider it quite successful as I found my dress for graduation (in about 5 minutes, I thank you), saw the Olympics countdown clock, bought a Krispy Kreme doughnut, and went to Covent Garden.

In Covent Garden Tube Station I just about lost it with a woman. I couldn't get through the barriers because my Oyster card needed more money on it. It had started to rain and the tiniest Tube Station in the world became rammed. I fought my way back to the window (the one window) and queued. Imagine my joy when the woman in front of me wanted to have discussion about how best to get her group of 17 to wherever and what sort of ticket was best to buy. I bit my tongue and said nothing.

However, when it came to paying I could not remain silent when she turned to the group of 17, scattered throughout the station (which was rammed, remember) and asked that each person bring her £1.50 to pay for their ticket. I might have told her that wasn't the best way to do things. She might have replied that she had no choice. Then I might have replied and said with great exasperation 'This is London'.

Two days in London and I became a huffy Londoner. Well, when in Rome...

Travels with my mother (part 1)

I had the (somewhat) recent fortune to take two trips with my mother. Everyone should travel with their mother. It's an experience. On these trips I learnt my mum would travel practically nowhere. Not that she doesn't have a sense of adventure, it just needs to be coaxed out of her. Thank goodness for Take That and Wimbledon then.

Take That
I've never been a massive Take That fan. Sure, I like them, but I'm not obsessive over them. I didn't really like any of their songs when I was a teenager, until Back For Good. I remember watching the video for that on The Chart Show (remember The Chart Show?) And I liked Never Forget, but then Robbie left, and they did that awful How Deep is Your Love cover (to be fair any cover of that song would be terrible, as it is a terrible song) and it all went pear shaped.

I wasn't here when the documentary came out that got them back together as a four. Likewise, when their first new singles were coming out I was in Singapore, so I really did miss the hype and what not. I liked The Circus ok, and I saw the show on TV and it looked really great. All the same I wouldn't say I'm a massive fan of them.

Mum likes the new stuff a lot so when the Progress tour was announced I thought it would be a nice Christmas present to get her tickets to go. So on the day they came out I got up early and sat with three computers on the go and got tickets. Like I mentioned before I actually got three sets of tickets because Caroline, who is obsessed with Gary Barlow, didn't realise the tickets for Dublin went on sale at 8.00am, not 9.00am. And then Karen (David's) wrote back to my text from the night previously and said she did want to go, so the two I got for mum and me were sold on and I got three for us. I did feel a bit bad though to hear of diehard fans who didn't get tickets that day and there's me with eight, bought on three separate transactions.

Anyway, eventually June rolled around and we were headed to Dublin. At times Dublin felt like it was taking part in a record attempt for the world's biggest hen party. Feather boas, group outfits, drunk women, you know the deal. We gave ourselves nicknames for our non-existant t-shirts. Mum became Duke of Ed. She had every possible map, timetable and info about the concert. Heck, she even brought packed sandwiches for the way back. Karen is 'Got Your Ticket?' due to an unfortunate lost ticket incident. My name? Well because we were at the back of the stadium I wanted to bring binoculars, you know, so we could see their faces. Too bad we couldn't find them and all we had was this:

A monocular. So I became Nelson.

 So what of the concert? Well, of course it was fantastic. Robbie's bit was my favourite. He is such a showman and had the audience in the palm of his hand.

This was during Rock DJ. I enjoyed that one.

I really liked when they showed the crowds in front of  them. I bet Robbie thought he'd never play to as many people again.

Quite the set too. Now, are your people involved in 2012? Because that would be a good idea.

Just a short week later I was off travelling with mother again. Honestly, the last mother-daughter trip was c. 1989 to Penzance and now two come along at once.