We pulled the curtains very early this afternoon. It wasn't all that dark but it was very, very gloomy so shutting out the weather and pretending it was later than it actually was seemed A Good Plan.
It did mean that I was no longer able to keep a watchful eye on next door's black and white cat who has been prowling round the bushes looking for any birds silly enough to leave the safety of the high branches. I always have
my armchair in the perfect position for a good view of the garden and all that is going on out there. In the sweet days of spring, the sultry days of summer, the fruitful days of autumn this puts me firmly in pole position. Like Nico Rosberg, except that it
didn't do him too much good today (of which more later.) Sadly the view from my armchair on wet wintry days like today is, like, wet, wet, wet. Like the pop group but less tuneful.
Incidentally, why would
anyone call a pop group Wet, Wet, Wet? Do you think it's meant to be ironic? I've never been too good at irony myself (or ironing for that matter but I do need to keep to the subject before I lose my train of thought so please forgive me for leaving this hanging
in the air, a particularly annoying non sequitur.) This is the reason I don't resort to the use of irony in the Daily Blog. Or, if I do, it is purely coincidental.
To return to the weather. Do I have to? It
really has been a shocking day. Mr B headed manfully off to Tesco's and returned wet, wet, wet and, no, he wasn't singing. He was not a Happy Bunny. Still, all was not lost because this has been a great day for televised sport, mostly from sunnier climes,
hence bringing a bit of welcome warmth into our day.
I was particularly interested in the Grand Prix from Abu Dhabi but for all the wrong reasons. Regular readers will remember that last week I was watching
the rugby in the hope of seeing some good pictures of the Gamesmakers' Choir. I love the way these volunteers from the 2012 Olympics have been keeping the spirit of the Games alive through song. Today I was watching the build-up to the Grand Prix in the hope
that there might be a mention of another British team of world beaters - that's Team Colossus, a team of students from Robert May's School based in Odiham, Hampshire, the worthy winners of the F1 in the World Schools Championships. The youngsters were out
in Abu Dhabi today, watching Lewis Hamilton take the title. I know Our Lewis was the main story but I do think the programme makers missed a good story about the bright future for British F1 if Team Colossus have anything to do with it.
Team Colossus is a pretty good name, don't you think? Better than Wet, Wet, Wet any day. Possibly one for a future team on The Apprentice to adopt. I shall write to Lord Sugar and suggest it. Along with suggesting that the pupils from
Team Colossus might be a better investment than his latest crop of would-be entrepreneurs. I should perhaps explain that my interest is because two of my grandkids, while not part of Team Colossus, are former or current pupils at Robert May's School. Even
grandparents are entitled to feel proud by association, don't you know?
Once I realised that there was not going to be any mention of Team Colossus I didn't sulk for long. I decided to watch through till the
end, in between making up my knitted reindeer. If the stitches are a little uneven in places, this marks the exciting moments in the race. I always forget how long it takes to make up one of my knitted characters. Our Lewis crossed the finishing line to a
display of fireworks which completely overshadowed the chequered flag while I was still stuffing antlers. If you have never stuffed a knitted antler - and I suspect not many of you have - then you need to know it requires enormous patience and judicious use
of a knitting needle to tease the stuffing inside the long, narrow opening.
The televised sport goes on and on. We are now watching Hull versus Spurs. If Spurs don't pull back from the jaws of defeat,
then Mr B will be miserable all evening so Something Needs To Happen. Hull are down to ten men which may help. This is, I admit, unsporting in the extreme but my whole evening depends on Spurs winning. You can't really blame me, can you? Unless, of course,
you are a Hull supporter, in which case I send you my grovelling apologies.
All is well in the world. Spurs have won, not quite in the style of Lewis Hamilton or Team Colossus but a win's a win for a' that.
Did you like the way I seamlessly segued into Scots dialect? I have been trying for ages to (i) use Scottish dialect and (ii) somehow introduce the verb segue into the blog. Whatever the state of my stuffed antlers (and to be honest they look a bit wonky,
even before I attach them to the reindeer's woolly head) I have succeeded in something.
What is more - tomorrow is undoubtedly another day. As Annie (of Annie fame) put it so very well: "The sun will come
out tomorrow....just you wait and see!"
Bless you, Annie. I am with you all the way!