Coming down from on high

It's over. We've had the sport, the closing ceremony and the athletes' parade. What am I going to do with myself?

The Olympics were stupendous; the Paralympics were stupendous and a revelation. What a summer, indeed what a year, starting with the Queen's Jubilee. The crowds have been out in force since the Spring, culminating in the huge numbers that lined the route of the parade despite it taking place on a Monday afternoon. I couldn't be there of course, but I was following it on the live feeds of the Times and Telegraph online, plus the BBC.

It was truly inspiring to see the athletes of TeamGB (both) put in their best performance, and heartbreaking when something went wrong. The worst was seeing some of the bad calls made by the judges. I'm thinking in particular of Jody Cundy and the javelin thrower Nathan Stephens neither of whom did anything that had not been done before and got harshly disqualified for it. The downs of sport plunge very low.

What have I taken away from the summer's fun? Respect in droves, certainly. Respect for the stunning performances of our best athletes and also for all the Paralympians who show us how much can be achieved whoever you are.

Also more understanding of the relentless, grinding work that goes into making an elite athlete. It doesn't just happen, it's not achieved by being famous, and it definitely requires dedication, skill, guts, courage and good sponsorship. Our vapid famous for being famous celebrities show up very poorly when compared with our athletes who pour all their blood sweat and tears into being a success. Hopefully the new role models of our youth will be this year's Olympic and Paralympic winners rather than a loser from Big Brother.

My eldest son is going to try out sprint training this year. He's already the fastest in his class and I'm hoping he will enjoy taking his talent a bit further. This summer I came back from my mum's with all my certificates from regional school athletics meetings, and told him that he will be following in a family tradition. His grandfather was Victor Ludorum at his school, his father was very sporty and I was pretty sporty too.

He's got some good genes and it's great to make the best use of them!

Living in the Moment

I don't know about you, but I've been glued to the Olympics for the past couple of weeks. What with that and desultory house-hunting it's been pretty quiet around here... until the boys came home and then all untidiness and noise broke loose.

Still, we're off to the UK tomorrow for a couple of weeks of coolness and drizzle, and thankful to be leaving 35°C and no pool. We arrive just in time to watch the closing ceremony which will round off things nicely. Then we are going to be out and about in Essex and Kent visiting for the most part military museums, castles, a steam train at Ongar and so on. That's the plan, anyway.

I'm gutted that the Olympic Park will be closed to visitors. I was really hoping to pop along and see the site of so much excitement, the flowers and the red squiggly thing.

I'm happy to forget house-hunting for the time being, forget the dingy interiors and exteriors, forget the deflating effect of going inside the houses for sale built in the 1970s and 80s and seemingly not redecorated or modernised since.

Some people can visit a place and see the potential of what it could be like. I go into a place and see the wreck that it is and can't go beyond that. Luckily my DB is not like me; he has an eye for potential, but also expensive tastes in restoration.

Actually, if I'm honest, I'd like to have the money to throw at a finished house where all I have to do is put my bags down, my furniture inside and feet under the table. Some people love the challenge of redecorating or restoration, putting their stamp on their surroundings and feeling they've achieved something when they finally finish. I'm not like that. Pity really considering my financial situation is not in harmony with my aspirations.

Never mind, we've got Mo Farrah going for Gold to look forward to tonight and for the moment, everything's right with the world.

Had My Filling

You know how there's a certain point at which you become heartily sick of the medical profession? Well, I've reached it.

Last week I was sick and saw the doc, and also the dentist who'd I'd forgotten about but who kindly got his secretary to ring me up on my bed of nausea to remind me. At vast expense, natch. Have dentist prices gone up recently? I don't remember paying 60€ for a scrub and brush up. My eldest also got one.

I saw the doc who prescribed ineffective rubbish. Maybe he thought I was faking it, but just in case, sent me for a scan (are you pregnant, mummy? asked my eldest. Certainly not, said I, not at my age). I had it last night, having starved all day because you have to be nil by mouth for a billion hours beforehand, and I felt all light-headed and inept on the road. More vast expense and all to tell me I had nothing serious wrong, just food poisoning, and he did a general look around while he was down there.

Back to the doc today, more medication, hopefully more effective this time - some sort of disinfectant, I believe. Then being all bodily frail an' all, I've gone and caught a cold and can scarcely breathe.

Then back to the dentist for more scrubbing plus filling repairs. I sat there with a blue rubber sterile thing over mouth and nose, dying to sneeze and trying to sniff, after he'd poked a nasty needle into my tender gums saying things like, don't forget to breathe now. Ha, some chance!

Then I had to go back yet again with my youngest for his check-up. He got some sort of a varnish put on his adult teeth to protect them. I thought that pretty nifty. It reminded me of sessions having fluoride squirted into moulds and forced over my teeth when young. I'm not sure how effective it was, however, as I still had to have fillings.

Anyway, more vast expense - nearly 200€ and I've had it. No more! I can't take any more medical stuff, I've reached that point where enough is enough. No one had better fall ill in the next week or so because I'm having nothing more to do with any sort of doctor for some time to come. So tough!

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I had a passing thought the other day, watching the Olympics. Seeing as the world will be Muslim within a few decades, and that the Taliban, for example, believe that women are good only in the home or under ground, dead, I doubt there'll be any female skiers by then. In fact, were there any devout Muslim female skiers at the Games?

I will actually be dead, hopefully, doctors or no doctors (male), so it'll be SEP (someone else's problem). Good luck with that one!