Number Two Daughter rang up this afternoon to discuss her sister’s inspirational brilliance, and to ruminate on the undoubted irony that, out of all of our extended family, the person invited to attend the Seat Of Power is the only one who doesn’t have the smallest interest in it.
The rest of us are not exactly political activists, but we do read newspapers and occasionally write letters to our various MPs. Number One Daughter has never considered such pastimes. In fact we did even wonder if it might be a sensible idea to telephone her to make sure that she actually knows who Boris Johnson is and what he does for a living.
Number One Daughter is not remotely interested in the world of politics. The thing about being an international championship athlete is that it tends to occupy one’s energies rather to the exclusion of all the things that everybody else thinks about, like which party is in government and where one might have left one’s car keys. You do not become a person who can lift a hundred and twenty kilos above your head if you spend your spare moments sitting at a computer writing letters to your local councillor about potholes in the tarmac, or dog poo on pavements.
We also agreed, regretfully, that she was unlikely to invite either of us to join her, even if she were to be allowed to bring a guest, which she isn’t. We also thought that we had better begin steeling ourselves now for the inevitable day when she is awarded an OBE, and we are obliged to tell the world how very pleased and proud we are to have such a fantastically high achieving and successful family member.
Of course we are very pleased and proud indeed to have a successful family member, not least because there is a small amount of reflected glory involved, and we will snatch all opportunities for basking in this wherever possible. The difficult thing is that it tends to turn one’s internal spotlight back towards one’s own achievements, for which I am not likely to be invited to shake hands with anybody in the foreseeable future.
In fact I have always felt that I have done rather well to stay out of prison, which might be true but is not the sort of achievement which gets you invited to Ten Downing Street. Other than that my top five achievements include ‘makes nice biscuits’ and, well, ‘stayed out of prison’.
So far.
I did not achieve anything especially startling today. My parents dropped by to say their farewells on their way home, and also to leave a financial contribution towards the ongoing building works, about which we were suitably grateful and much relieved.
As always, cash is in short supply, because we have spent it all, and I would have liked to spend such a handy and unexpected bonus on buying a banana tree, but in the end reason prevailed. Instead we are going to buy some pipe and some electrical cable and put the water supply and the wiring in for the kitchen and the conservatory.
I do not mind much about the banana tree at the moment, because we badly need to put the wiring in, and we are not yet ready to plant anything.
Mark has started adding soil to the conservatory flower bed, but it is going to take lots more to fill it, because it is massive. He has chucked some rubble in the bottom for drainage, also because we were too idle to take it to the tip, and he has insulated around the sides so that the roots of the plants will not get chilled even on the worst days. All the same, so far he has dumped ten sacks of muck into it and not yet covered the bottom.
This is really going to be ace for growing things. Deep, loose, rich soil is brilliant, especially if we can keep it all warm.
I have started to look at seed trays on eBay. It is ages since I have had a greenhouse, and I am suddenly feeling very, very excited about it all.
I do not mind in the least that I am not going to go to London and see Boris Johnson. London is busy and noisy and I know what Boris Johnson looks like anyway. This year I am going to be able to grow lettuce and tomatoes and sweet peas and maybe even bananas.
I could not begin to ask for any more from my life.
Mark took the picture. It is Inspirational.
I think the Inspirational caption should say: Even When The World Looks Pretty It Is Still A Good Idea To Remember Your Wellies.
