Marching, Velodrome, Kilts and Hospital

We seem to be doing quite well for medlas at the Commonwealth Games in Scotland. Just watching the velodrome, and one of the ladies has just won gold, she is bald. If I remember right she has been battling cancer, so bloody good on her !! Joanna Rowsell, taking the acclaim as I write. Brilliant. And dont those men look so manly , yet elegant, in their kilts. Some tartan, some plain blue, some the new tartan of the games, a mixture of pale blue and beige with pale blue shirts. They all look magnificent. But the other half of my sky wouldnt buy me a kilt today (ok, there probably isnt a kilt shop in Leicester) which I dont understand. She is Scottish. OK, Im not, but so what? Anyway, I shall have to work on this. The shorts are so uncomfortable as they ride up between the legs.

I sat on a bench as she perused the pound shops, enjoying the sun, and talking to an Asian lady about the litter that some people leave lying around despite there being a litter bin just five feet away, and doing my favourite pastime of people watching. So many men with the same problem of shorts bunching and looking horrible, and ladies looking so cool and free and smart in skirts flapping as they walked. Jealous? Me? You bet I am! hahaha,

Well, its been a hot day, and hopefully my son will soon be in and out of the operating theatre (Polyps up nose, horrible) and I can go and pick him up. In the meantime, its the velodrome on the tellybox, and a nice cup of tea and ignore the ache in my leg……….as I look down my ankle and calf has swollen badly and I wish I had worn my support leggings today, but I thought I would get some air at my legs.

Talking of legs, wondered why people were lining up and discovered the local regiment were marching into town, led by their military band. Although I lean more toward pacifism than the alternative, I have to admit to a twinge of national pride as they marched past in perfect time, looking great in their khaki uniforms and the band all in red. The people applauded and cheered as they marched past.

Cant think of a clever way to end this blog, so I will just stop, if thats ok.

Love all, hurt none and walk in soft shoes

Isi Tart.


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