How to wear a Union Jack

When I collected MissM from Heathrow
I warned her that she had returned
to a different country...

I said
"It is not just Olympic fever...
we are all members of Team GB."
MissM looked doubtful.

So...here we are,
the very next day,
in the Olympic Park
waiting for the stadium to open...

checking out the flower meadows
which just are as colourful
and beautiful and extraordinary
as everyone tells you...

watching Laura Trott
win another cycling Gold
on the big screen...

and suddenly MissM,
fresh from the wilderness of South America,
is signed up to Team GB

which is just in time
because now we are in the stadium
just to the right
of the Olympic flame.

From where we are sitting
you can see the track,
and the long jump,
and the discus final,
and, in the distance,
the high jump final

and it all feels like
Gullivers Travels in Lilliput
but with a wall of noise
that makes your head
rock back with shock.

Afterwards we walked out
into the darkness,
away from the electric red Orbit,
and the smiles of the volunteers,

taking our flags and caps
and a little bit of the Olympic magic
back into the new land of Team GB.

London 2012

I have tried to grasp what the London Olympics mean and why they are such a joyous occasion. Even the tumultous celebrations for the gold medals of Super Saturday transcend nationality because we feel wonder at the extraordinary achievements of Michael Phelps in the swimming pool even as we celebrate Jessica Ennis in the stadium.

This morning I heard Lord Coe, Chairman of the London Organising Committee for the Olympic Games, talking to Gary Richardson on Sportweek, BBC Radio 5 Live and he told this very moving story: 

"Yesterday I met a volunteer Games Maker [who are everywhere in their distinctive purple and beige uniforms] and asked him what he did. The volunteer replied that he was a medic at the boxing venue and so I asked him what he did in everyday life. After he had explained that he was an consultant anaesthetist in the A&E of a large London hospital I thanked for him what he was doing, telling him that the event would not be possible without him and how fortunate all the competitors were to have such high quality medical care. He paused and said 'Oh no - thank you, Lord Coe, thank you for bringing these Olympics to London. I was on duty at the hospital on the day of the London bombings and on that day I saw the worst that humanity can do. This week I have seen the very best that humanity can accomplish and it has given me closure - that is why I want to thank you."

We go to the Olympic Park on Tuesday to wonder at the buildings, the flower meadows and the athletic events. We will wave our flags and cheer until we are hoarse and I will remember the day for the rest of my life no matter who wins or loses, because in that park is the very best that humanity can accomplish.

Orchid in Sink

Place orchid in sink
Admire photographic composition
Remove orchid
Bleach sink
Dust windowsill
Clean window
Polish tap
Replace orchid
Wait for sun...

Photograph orchid in sink

Just in time for tea

"'...if we didn't have tea,
we could never use the china.'"
A Game of Hide and Seek
Elizabeth Taylor

Trixy china by Royal Doulton
Tablecloth by my grandmother
Delicious coffee cake by my father

Result?
One very happy son-in-law

the still point

Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened
Into the rose-garden.

T.S.Eliot
Burnt Norton

*****

I have struggled with this post.
I wanted to say something about
silence and watery sunshine,
oblique light and retreat,
but the words would not come.
I offer you the photos as they are.

Checkmate

MrM
I suddenly realised I was in BIG trouble
because MasterM had me trapped
so I quickly moved out of range.
I was really surprised
when he pointed out
that I had won.

But don't tell him.

I want him to think
it was a strategic finish.

I wish, I wish

Rapunzel
Frank Cadogan Cowper

MrsM is reading the magazines
at the hairdressers...

"Kate's Luscious Tresses!!
You can have them too!!"

MrsM looks at her hair in the mirror.
It is short and straight...
it is not a ravishing brunette.
MrsM knows in her heart
this will never be true
and another dream dies.

Chiara, the scary hairdresser,
says in a coaxing tone...

"Well, you use the same shampoo
which is a start..."

Hats Off!

I think I assumed
that the hats and boards
evaporated in mid air
or hovered like
ungainly ceremonial birds.

I did not know
that after the moment
when the hats are thrown
into the blue sky
in a gust of laughter
you are surrounded
by the rush of air
and the soft sound
of felt and velvet
hitting the ground.

This year, for the first time,
I stood among the academics
and the hats and boards
rained down joyfully upon us.

My Glamorous Life

Outside my office today:

Olympic rowers
Olympic canoeists

Police helicopter
Police snipers
Police on motorbikes
Police in patrol cars
Police checking access route

Soldiers with sharp haircuts
Sniffer dogs

Operator for road barriers
Operator for traffic lights
Operator for personnel scanner

Security guards in yellow
Olympic assistants in purple

(and three men from Facilities
wearing extra long thick gloves
trying to extract dead rats
from the air conditioning system
because I complained about the smell)

The Gentle Author

I started reading Spitalfields Life in September 2009 shortly after it began. I cannot remember how I found it but I recognised immediately the innovative use of blogging. The Gentle Author writes a daily portrait of the people, buildings and spaces of Spitalfields and it has gradually developed into an important social and historical record which has successfully made the transition to a beautiful book published by Saltyard Books. It is clear that The Gentle Author feels a vocation to document the world that he loves and he does so with complete integrity, his duty of care to the people that he interviews patently obvious to the reader.

Oddly, the posts that I remember from the early days are the more personal ones about visits to Columbia Road market on a Sunday to buy a small plant for the windowsill. I also had a covetous eye for The Gentle Author's collection of antique china. When china and bulbs made a joint appearance in a post about an inherited hyacinth bowl I was overcome and immediately bought one of my own which reminds me of The Gentle Author every time I use it.

It was a real thrill to meet The Gentle Author at the Port Eliot festival where he was speaking in the tent of his friend from Spitalfields, Andrews of Arcadia. We listened to him read lyrical and moving extracts from the book including the post about his friend, Sandra Esqulant, Landlady of the Golden Heart. After the reading I had the chance to chat to The Gentle Author and thank him for the pleasure that Spitalfields Life has given me over the years. I wanted to say I understood his sense of vocation, his obligation to record and how grateful I was that he had taken the underrated form of blogging to such high levels, inspiring other bloggers to believe in the work that they do quietly every day, but I was dumbstruck.