A long tiring weekend, but no rioting

I am absolutely knackered. My own fault but been burning the candle at both ends for a few days. Thursday night was the killer as I had a night out with one of my younger mates. Was intended to be with two of my younger mates, but the quiet conscientious one cried off with too much work to do (as one might expect) leaving me with the one who works for an investment bank, is over six-foot of muscle and is close to half my age. Even though I didn't quite keep up with him on drinks, that was still too much by the end of the evening. Something quaint about the way I can still be led astray at my age. And that even now I still can't work out when to stop.

Anyway, woke up next morning not feeling hung over so much as rather still drunk. And with no memnory at all as to how I had got home the night before. Which would have been fine as I had the day off work, except that I had to get up to shop and then put together a picnic, and sort out beds, for the afternoon arrival of some friends. Fortunately, my trip to Crystal Palace with two 12 year old boys went like a dream - all the many train connections worked and they were really engaged by the athletics. I had feared they might have got bored or fidgety over what was the best part of 4 hours, but not a bit of it. Result. So my patented method of child control?  Buy them an ice cream. After that they are but putty in your hands. Supernanny, cry your heart out...

The journey home was just a little blighted by the time taken queuing to actually get onto a platform at Crystal Palace station. Basically the Palace is notorious for its inability to cope with crowds which is in part why Spurs' idea to take over the Olympic stadium and just upgrade the Palace for athletics must be resisted at all costs. Even down to civil disobedience. But the athletics was top drawer with several world best performances this year. A few action shots just to decorate the blog...

So we didn't get home until gone 11 pm by which time mother and daughter had arrived back at my house (after a trip to the Royal Academy followed by Yes Prime Minister which they both loved - good recommendation from yours truly) with dad (who had had only a day at work and an evening train journey from Crewe to enjoy - someone always has to draw the short straw). So with the boys straight to bed I just had a bit of a chat with the parents until past midnight

Then an early start again Saturday morning as they all had to get to Winchester for lunch (to return the spare 12 year old that wasn't theirs to the bosom of his family) and I had a dinner party to prepare for. I found the latter a real struggle as I kept wanting to slope off to the sofa to fall asleep in front of the sport on TV. Still managed to get dinner for 5 prepared (although my salmon and prawn pate failed to set. There goes my 3rd Michelin star.) And a very pleasant evening with two of the trainees from my department - my own trainee and her husband and our young athlete Ed (who I had watched race at the UK championships in Birmingham the previous weekend) with his girlfriend.

So obviously another late night with the odd glass of wine. And then Sunday earlyish start to get up to Coventry to see mum in hospital visiting hours. A journey made more time consuming at this end because the whole northern end of the Piccadilly line was out for engineering works, the overground wasn't running either, and even the replacement bus service had to crawl round the high street as Wood Green was closed off presumably from the previous night's riots. (It appears I was just lucky in my little enclave of Poles and Cypriots surrounded by rioting Tottenham to the East, Wood Green to the South and Enfield to the North.) A friend sent me a text asking if I was alright and had anyone set light to me yet. I replied that no one had previously asked that precise question of me on a Sunday morning, but I assumed it was inspired by the disturbances and not a general concern for my inflammability.

So basically today too tired.