We are desperately trying to leave the house today; yesterday was spent inside watching CBeebies all day long, and I am slowly going berserk. Hattie has bronchiolitis again - well, it's a holiday, what else is she going to do, and Lucy technically has chicken pox, although I think as her spots have faded, and were never that bad really, it was a very mild dose. Today, however, I have decided that we are going out - to Hobbycraft, to Costa, to Ealing Town Hall, to the library, to the garden centre and to somewhere else desperately exciting like Sainsburys. Unfortunately, my plans have been derailed by Mr Tumble, who is our current hero, but at least it means I get 10 minutes to myself to witter on about the Olympics.
I watched the Opening Ceremony, half expecting it to be, well, a bit rubbish. And bits of it were, especially the whole green and pleasant land nostalgia for something that never existed anyway at the beginning. Then Ken as Brunel, portraying him as a fat cat industrialist, when he was more that annoyed me. But then the rings were forged and rose in the air, and I decided that this was generally a great experience and I was going to stop huffing and enjoy it. Of course, Daniel Craig, the Queen, blah blah, sense of humour and all that, Gawd bless yer NHS, GOSH, and I could have done without the commentary, but by the time I worked out how to turn it off, it was the athletes parade and I needed it for that.
Interesting what they chose to celebrate - I think Danny Boyle's vision was the way that the left would like to portray Britishness - diverse, interesting, tolerant and religious in a non-specific way. There was a lot of God in the ceremony, what with Jerusalem, Bread of Heaven and Abide with Me, but it wasn't specifically the Christian God, just "God", someone who everyone could relate to; this non-denominational faith based approach is rare, unfortunately. I think the majority of the country has some form of faith, and we should celebrate it sometimes; it should unite us more than tear us apart.
Well, what with all that deep thought and provocative tweeting and twitter reading, I managed to cast on 64 stitches for my mitten three times, each time getting a different number. The Ravellenic Games are taking place along with the other Olympics, and I am making a pair of mittens with tiny blue hippos on. So far, so good, although I found the ribbing tedious, and I need to make the mittens longer than lovely Spilly Jane's teeny hands.
The arrival of my children indicates that Mr Tumble has gone back to Tumbleland, so I'd better go and be a mummy properly. *sigh*
Buy baby gros!
I watched the Opening Ceremony, half expecting it to be, well, a bit rubbish. And bits of it were, especially the whole green and pleasant land nostalgia for something that never existed anyway at the beginning. Then Ken as Brunel, portraying him as a fat cat industrialist, when he was more that annoyed me. But then the rings were forged and rose in the air, and I decided that this was generally a great experience and I was going to stop huffing and enjoy it. Of course, Daniel Craig, the Queen, blah blah, sense of humour and all that, Gawd bless yer NHS, GOSH, and I could have done without the commentary, but by the time I worked out how to turn it off, it was the athletes parade and I needed it for that.
Interesting what they chose to celebrate - I think Danny Boyle's vision was the way that the left would like to portray Britishness - diverse, interesting, tolerant and religious in a non-specific way. There was a lot of God in the ceremony, what with Jerusalem, Bread of Heaven and Abide with Me, but it wasn't specifically the Christian God, just "God", someone who everyone could relate to; this non-denominational faith based approach is rare, unfortunately. I think the majority of the country has some form of faith, and we should celebrate it sometimes; it should unite us more than tear us apart.
Well, what with all that deep thought and provocative tweeting and twitter reading, I managed to cast on 64 stitches for my mitten three times, each time getting a different number. The Ravellenic Games are taking place along with the other Olympics, and I am making a pair of mittens with tiny blue hippos on. So far, so good, although I found the ribbing tedious, and I need to make the mittens longer than lovely Spilly Jane's teeny hands.
The arrival of my children indicates that Mr Tumble has gone back to Tumbleland, so I'd better go and be a mummy properly. *sigh*
Buy baby gros!
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