My Life on a Plate

They Think It's All Over

It is now.

I DID go to the gym this morning - halo shining, muscles flexing, flab looking for a new home. Hubby called me a slob last night because I didn't want to go as early as him, so I made sure I was dressed and bag packed by 7.30am when I woke him up to tell him I was ready. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

I spent the afternoon at my parent's house, where my mother couldn't decide if she wanted to watch football, tennis or do a jigsaw. Attempting to do all three means her knickers are totally twisted now and she's not sure if Portugal are on Centre Court or Federer has a piece missing. She really can't multi-task at her age. There was some good news however.

On Wednesday she lost her glasses. This is a regular habit of hers but it gives them both something to do and provides physical exercise for them as they ransack the house from top to bottom in search of the errant spectacles. No luck this time so I wasn't looking forward to a second search myself in the seering heat which has finally arrived in England.

When I arrived my mum was washing a few 'smalls' in the sink. She has a washing machine but still likes to do a bit of hand washing for some reason, although I suspect she's forgotten how to use the machine anyway. But I digress ...oh look a chicken. I said I'd peg the washing out for her, fetched the peg bag from the cupboard, reached inside for a peg and brought out...her absent glasses. God does move in mysterious ways.

Anyway, after England went into extra time and the tennis was going with serve I decided I'd walk home. The town I live in is rather deprived and certainly not a thriving, lively place at the best at times. There are many empty retail properties, boarded up shops and the traffic system has to be the worst in the country. Normally, it takes ten minutes to cross a road as vehicles build up at the excessive number of traffic lights. Today I walked through a ghost town.

No people, no traffic, no waiting. Everyone glued to their TV sets agonising over the no score match against Portugal. I knew there was no score in extra time as from every house I passed only the sound of commentary and crowd noise hummed through the open windows. A good job really as had England scored I think the reaction of our devoted fans may have caused unstable buildings to fall and I had no wish to be underneath them.

I arrived home just in time to see the fiasco of a penalty shoot out. Why don't they just do that to start with and save us the pain? What do you mean stop laughing? I'm absolutely heartbroken.

So England go out of the World Cup in the usual fashion. The nation takes down its flags and wears a black armband. Well maybe now we can return to some semblance of normality and my computers won't run at a snail's pace due to the glut of football fans surfing soccer websites and placing bets.

Unless of course, they all decide to switch to tennis and start putting money on Andy Murray winning Wimbledon. Oh, perish the thought. He's not English, but Scottish and the first to point that out in no uncertain and often impolite terms.

Summer in England - Sport, Sport and more Sport. Anyone want to buy an England flag?