I'm thinking of suing Danny Boyle.
Friday night was audition night, and the man himself was there, smiling away at the 200 odd bodies stretching and gyrating. When I say 'odd' that is a description of the shapes and sizes of the people there rather than an approximation of the number. If I wasn't actually the oldest, I was well up there. At least there were no more leggy, lycra-clad professional dancers to humiliate the rest of us. We had been chosen for our acting abilities/our ability to follow orders in moving our bodies in sync. This time was even harder than the last time but I stretched as far as I could, I twisted right round as I was told and I gyrated but perhaps not in sync with everyone else. It was hard, but remarkably good fun...better than the first time round. Come Saturday though, I had a pain in my back. I've pulled something. Ouch, ouch, ouch. I deserve either a medal or a large compensation cheque.
Saturday The Boy and I went off to Twickenham for a Northern Hemisphere vs Southern Hemisphere match in support of the Help for Heroes Charity. The Boy would have been playing the last match of the season at School, but a shoulder injury ruled him out. Shame. It may well have cost him his colours (again). There were nearly thirty thousand people there and we roared and we cheered...for both teams. It's interesting when you don't have a particular allegiance to either team (yes I know we're northern, but really....). I forgot to take my camera...so just had my phone with me. That doesn't stop me offering you a spot the ball competition. Unlike days of old, there's no £1 million prize...just the satisfaction of knowing you have found it.
And the banana sandwich? I was hungry Saturday morning, the bananas were just beginning to turn, so a banana sandwich it was. Brown bread. Benecol. I seem to remember Grandma in Cyprus making them when I was younger. They may have tasted better then than they do now.
