The Eurovision Song Contest was held last night, and it marks a year since we returned to the land of broadcast television.
Before I discuss that though, I'd been nursing my health. I'd managed to work all this week, and made steady improvement by monitoring my energy levels and not pushing myself harder than absolutely necessary. The chesty cough is now a distant memory, along with the other symptoms, but it seems the virus has moved to my throat and left me with swollen glands and low energy levels.
So, under normal circumstances on a Saturday, I'd have set to (with a vengence) on the myriad of jobs that have accrued since I'd been unwell ... clean the kitchen, clean the bathroom, vacuum the house, do the ironing, mow the lawn, pot on my seedlings, clean the hen house, etc, etc. Instead, when I got back from work yesterday lunchtime I settled myself down with the newspaper, a cup of tea, a scone and the TV! Well, they were showing The Dambusters again, it being the 70 year anniversary since the actual event.
Obviously, I'm not old enough to 'remember the war'. Nor was I in the country when the Falklands Conflict happened in 1982. (We were in Hong Kong 1981-83, but that's another story). But there is something immensely, compellingly moving and humbling watching The Dambusters, the fortitude, the war spirit, the stiff upper lip, the sacrifice, the loss, the duty, the application to the task, the bravery, the modesty. It's almost a documentary, and I'm in tears at the opening music, and couldn't persuade my children to watch it. When does it become relevant I wonder???
Meanwhile, in the interests of nursing my health I also parked myself in front of the box and watched the Eurovision Song Contest. 'From the sublime to the ridiculous'... you can decide which. Phoebe was desperate for our entry to gain points, and at least this year we were more successful than last.. It's a colourful extravaganza, and the overall quality was better than last year, and also better than previous contests I remember from the 1980's and maybe 1990's.
It was the 58th competition, and is still, I imagine, a rite of passage for every child across Europe: a talking point in the playground, on the school bus, with friends, a ritual. As adults we carry the memory of previous Eurovisions: our favourite song/acts, the groan-inducing trash that's so bad it's good, the genuinely good songs overlooked by political voting, the unfairness of it all, the travesty and drama, the misunderstanding of other cultures and the wonderfulness of ABBA.
Watching it with 12 year old Phoebe is entertainment in itself. The costumes, the drama, the dancers (good and bad), the Greeks, yes the wonderful Greeks sang a song entitled 'Alcohol is free'. Only the Greeks. And, in the modern incarnation of the show, the public are encouraged to participate by voting over the phone. So we had our favourites, and voted for Belarus, Hungary, Malta, Greece and Denmark. You're not allowed to vote for your own country, and there is also a panel of professionals whose judgement is added to the public vote to give scores to the top 10 acts. The overall winner last night was Denmark, followed by Azerbijan and Ukraine.
It does make it a late night, however, and as I was feeling relaxed(!) I (foolishly) said I'd try a gin and tonic. Experimentally. To see how my body reacted to alcohol since I've been completely off the booze for a good 18 months or so. It gave me a headache, so I went to bed with a couple of paracetamol, and took a longer time to drift off to sleep. Woke up at 5.30am, with dry mouth and residual headache. So, for me, I'm better off staying tea-total.
I'm not entirely happy about this, but feel I must listen to my body whilst it reacts like this. It makes social situations difficult because I feel like a party-pooper, always the sober one, always the driver, always the one counting the minutes so I can get home to a cup of tea, always the one feeling awkward, 'no thank you, I don't drink' is such a downer. Better to avoid the situation than confront it, but it's such a part of 'adult' life in this country and it's such a bore.
The robins left the nest. I noticed they'd gone on Thursday, and it feels quite strange now they're not there. I don't know whether to clear out the moss or leave it and see if another robin tries their luck....
Right, time to tackle the day. Have a good one, and keep it sweet! Kat :)
Before I discuss that though, I'd been nursing my health. I'd managed to work all this week, and made steady improvement by monitoring my energy levels and not pushing myself harder than absolutely necessary. The chesty cough is now a distant memory, along with the other symptoms, but it seems the virus has moved to my throat and left me with swollen glands and low energy levels.
So, under normal circumstances on a Saturday, I'd have set to (with a vengence) on the myriad of jobs that have accrued since I'd been unwell ... clean the kitchen, clean the bathroom, vacuum the house, do the ironing, mow the lawn, pot on my seedlings, clean the hen house, etc, etc. Instead, when I got back from work yesterday lunchtime I settled myself down with the newspaper, a cup of tea, a scone and the TV! Well, they were showing The Dambusters again, it being the 70 year anniversary since the actual event.
Obviously, I'm not old enough to 'remember the war'. Nor was I in the country when the Falklands Conflict happened in 1982. (We were in Hong Kong 1981-83, but that's another story). But there is something immensely, compellingly moving and humbling watching The Dambusters, the fortitude, the war spirit, the stiff upper lip, the sacrifice, the loss, the duty, the application to the task, the bravery, the modesty. It's almost a documentary, and I'm in tears at the opening music, and couldn't persuade my children to watch it. When does it become relevant I wonder???
Meanwhile, in the interests of nursing my health I also parked myself in front of the box and watched the Eurovision Song Contest. 'From the sublime to the ridiculous'... you can decide which. Phoebe was desperate for our entry to gain points, and at least this year we were more successful than last.. It's a colourful extravaganza, and the overall quality was better than last year, and also better than previous contests I remember from the 1980's and maybe 1990's.
It was the 58th competition, and is still, I imagine, a rite of passage for every child across Europe: a talking point in the playground, on the school bus, with friends, a ritual. As adults we carry the memory of previous Eurovisions: our favourite song/acts, the groan-inducing trash that's so bad it's good, the genuinely good songs overlooked by political voting, the unfairness of it all, the travesty and drama, the misunderstanding of other cultures and the wonderfulness of ABBA.
Watching it with 12 year old Phoebe is entertainment in itself. The costumes, the drama, the dancers (good and bad), the Greeks, yes the wonderful Greeks sang a song entitled 'Alcohol is free'. Only the Greeks. And, in the modern incarnation of the show, the public are encouraged to participate by voting over the phone. So we had our favourites, and voted for Belarus, Hungary, Malta, Greece and Denmark. You're not allowed to vote for your own country, and there is also a panel of professionals whose judgement is added to the public vote to give scores to the top 10 acts. The overall winner last night was Denmark, followed by Azerbijan and Ukraine.
It does make it a late night, however, and as I was feeling relaxed(!) I (foolishly) said I'd try a gin and tonic. Experimentally. To see how my body reacted to alcohol since I've been completely off the booze for a good 18 months or so. It gave me a headache, so I went to bed with a couple of paracetamol, and took a longer time to drift off to sleep. Woke up at 5.30am, with dry mouth and residual headache. So, for me, I'm better off staying tea-total.
I'm not entirely happy about this, but feel I must listen to my body whilst it reacts like this. It makes social situations difficult because I feel like a party-pooper, always the sober one, always the driver, always the one counting the minutes so I can get home to a cup of tea, always the one feeling awkward, 'no thank you, I don't drink' is such a downer. Better to avoid the situation than confront it, but it's such a part of 'adult' life in this country and it's such a bore.
The robins left the nest. I noticed they'd gone on Thursday, and it feels quite strange now they're not there. I don't know whether to clear out the moss or leave it and see if another robin tries their luck....
Right, time to tackle the day. Have a good one, and keep it sweet! Kat :)
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