I went to the Paralympics today - and completely forgot to take my Union Jack!
You know the one I mean, my regular readers. I carried it aloft when the Torch
Relay came to a rain-soaked Arundel. I waved it frantically at Mo Farah, each time he ran past me on his way to 10,000 metre glory in the Olympic Stadium on Super Saturday. How could I possibly have forgotten it today?
Well, there was a (reasonably) good reason, though Mr B does not accept it. I forgot my flag because it is still wrapped around the rather large penguin which sits outside our front door whenever grandchildren come to
stay. He was last "on duty" when Jack and Hazel arrived last week. I am sure Jack and Hazel would want me to assure you that they are far too grown-up for penguins on doorsteps (however large they may be and however fetchingly they may be dressed.)
I am happy to do so. But, bless them, they are always kind enough to humour their crazy Nan.
So, that's my excuse, flimsy as it may be. There we all were, Mr B, the Youngest of the Darling Daughters
and her lovely friend Ilona (who kept us supplied with humbugs all morning - what a totally delicious sweet a humbug is.....) Not so much as a flag between us.
And yet, do you know, I'm almost
glad I forgot my flag. So brave they are, these Paralympians. I'm totally humbled by their strength, their perseverance and their courage.
Whatever their nationality, I (flag-less)