Closing Ceremony Online "Party".

Our family always enjoy sitting down together to watch events of major importance - Royal Occasions, Sporting Events, Concerts. When our daughter was younger, as much as anything it was a good excuse to ignore the housework piling up around me and enjoy an uninterrupted two hours respite in front of the telly. Now she's older and wants to stay up. "Why's it on so late?" I ask my facebook friends. And as my cousin in Canada points out, it's a world event and it's not late for him, it's the middle of the afternoon. And he's right. Britain may have hosted the Olympics for just over two weeks, but that does not make us the Centre of the Universe! So we settle down in front of the TV, drinks to hand. What I love about these events now is that as well as watching the event itself, myself, family and friends are all online together, discussing the acts and proceedures as they happen. It's a wonderful online party, which I'm sharing with my friends who don't know each other and may well never meet and frineds of friends, some of whom I almost feel I know. Most of the usual suspects and a few new ones are online waiting for the event to begin. Whatever criticisms people may have of social networking, used well it really brings people together. The ceremony begins. After weeks of debate about sponsors, security, how women are portrayed etc, etc,  Daughter is in critical mode and starts questioning the authenticity of the medals themselves - "They look like chocolate gold coins..." I point out that they would have melted by now. A friend says they would break their teeth on them if they tried to eat them. How did I manage to bring up such a cynical child?! Next Prince Harry is up for debate! Are we sure he's really a Prince, he dosn't even look like any of the others?! I'm beginning to think it's a miracle she believes in God, but I'm glad she does. As the athletes are shown proudly displaying their medals I pick up on the excitement and almost wish I was among them, which is hilarious, as I can't even run for the bus without getting out of breath. An obscure singer is onstage. "Who's that?" some of us are wondering in bewilderment. "Elbow" a friend of a friend informs us. After what appears to be a delivery of some fridges, the entertainment continues. We all amuse each other with various comments about who is singing and wonder why the lighbulb hats - anyone know?! I love the diversity in our different tasts of music, which is sometimes gererational - it occurs to me that our age group are reminiscent of my Mum slagging off T-Rex in the '70s, having grown up in the days before 'pop' as we know it. We start wondering if this is what we really, really want as the Spice Girls dance about on top of their taxis. I decide that as the mother of a ten year old that on the whole their lyrics would be far more appropriate for her age group than other some of the other "music" which is frequently pushed towards them by the media. So I sing along to "Wannabee" while she sleeps soundly on the sofa. I'm transported back to the mid 1990s and good memories of my home town, which continues when Oasis appear as well, how wonderful is that?! The sleepy ten year old's not gonna be impressed at missing Jessie J, but a friend is recording the whole thing so she can watch it soon. Howard's unimpressed by the clothes worn for the 'Mod set' - where's the long green jacket or suit? He starts browsing mod gear on ebay on his laptop and eventually is also fast asleep. Why am I the only one in this family with any staying power? Jessie's back again, with 70s disco and then alongside Queen, which some of my friends find unbelievable and not in a good way. But I can't help feeling that while others of her generation will have fizzled out within a few years, Jessie's gonna be up there with the greats in 30 year's time.  Getting close to the end. The handover is worrying, from a health & safety perpective, surely they shouldn't be waving the flags so close to the flames?! It all looks amazing though and I have enjoyed it all, even singing along to songs I wouldn't normally play at home. A good time had by all & great fun sharing it all with friends elsewhere. Online Paralympic Ceremony Party, anyone?

Ridin' into Town.

Having had three small successful rides around the local roads, I  decided it was time to venture further afield. My daughter and I decided we are ready for the next big challenge. The Ride into Town. So we aim to get up and out of the house early (well, just after 10am). We prepare a rucksack with essentials for our journey. Purse - check. Phone - check. Keys - check. Diabetes management kit & snacks, check. Headache tablets & plasters, check. Sunglasses & cycle helmets - check. The rucksack's all packed up, and with the build up I am putting into this occasion, you would think we were going off- roading in some particularly hazardous countryside. In reality we are going along a cycle path which we join at the end of our road and leave at the town centre. It's a fairly flat ride with one or two slopes and the subway. But it is our first time out without another adult and it feels like a big adventure. I decide to be brave about the subway slopes and stay on the bike going both down and up, using the pavement for the uneven bits, which they really should fix. We peddle like mad in the subways then make it quite easily up into the middle, down into the second subway and up the otherside. It's easy - in fact a lot more easy than getting off and pushing. I've decided if I don't want my daughter to be a wuss about these things I'm not going to be one either. The rest of the journey is straightforward. The cycle track runs in between the bus lane and the pavement. Whoever planned this has done a really great job as everyone can get safely into town in their own space. It's quite a busy road and there's no way I would attempt it without the cycle lanes. We cross at several lots of traffic lights, arrive safely in town, ride through the park and I grapple locking both bikes and helmets up at the cycle park. Sounds daft, but these things are all new to me. "You won't forget the code, will you Mum?" says my daughter anxiously. The code is easy to remember. I walk away from our bikes feeling like a bona fida cyclist rather than a bag of nerves on wheels as I would have done a few years ago. The ride back goes well too and we have saved £6.00 on bus fare between us. I don't think I'm ever gonna make the Olympics but I'm proud of  my acheivements.