I was honoured last year to be asked to be a blogger ambassador for the #MumOfTheYear awards in Association with Tesco Living for this year. It was a real thrill reading about the incredible women who had been nominated for this award. Such an inspiring group of ladies who had done something extraordinary. How on earth the organising committee got it down from 6000 nominations to at shortlist of 35 and 8 eventual winners, I have no idea.
Days out as a family are few and far between for us these days. Eldest teen is of course now living with Mr M in their own pad, J is often studying for A levels this year or out driving his mates around, and Miss E is more likely to found in a mosh pit at the Brixton Academy than at home.
It might not have escaped your attention but I am not a natural athlete. I don’t really do sport. I never have. I was the last one to be picked for a team in school. In fact I wasn’t picked. Technically I was “allocated” to a team as I was always left over at the end. I vividly remember still having a lap to do at school’s sports day when I was told to do the 800m. Everybody else had done their two laps as I started my final lap.
So yeah. Running in public or in fact doing any kind of sport with an audience is not high on my list of priorities. But when Tara announced that the theme for the Gallery this week was “sport” in recognition of Sport Relief I just had to get involved.
PS, thank you Tara. You have always been hugely supportive of the Team Honk antics and it is very much appreciated.
But where do I find a picture of me being sporty? There are no such pics.
The above though is what sport means to me this year. That is Team Fleet who completed a four mile walk as part of #TeamHonkRelay this year, in the pouring rain. It was a great day and we were all hugely proud of our leg. It was Andy’s birthday and he celebrated by pushing Sarah in her newly acquired wheelchair by way of celebration. At the end of our leg were bacon sandwiches and a stroll into my daughter’s school to the sounds of Chariots of Fire that Andy was blasting from his portable speaker.
Or there are the below two pics. The one on the left is me on a treadmill. An actual treadmill. Not that it was turned on but I am technically standing on it. Taken by Sophie at Franglaise Mummy when we went up to see Jo Wiley do her bit for Sport Relief. The one on the right is indeed Ms Wiley with the bottle of Jack Daniels I took along as she mentioned she was looking forward to a whisky at the end. That pic was taken by Vanessa at HPMQ.
Well, I don’t know about you but I am shattered. The last ten weeks have been such a roller coaster that I am not sure I even know where to start with processing what has happened.
Soap is not something that you would naturally associate with Africa, is it? The “big five” does not normally contain a bar of soap. But for me I will always think of soap making as being one of my happiest memories in Africa.
One of the things I have learnt whilst being knee deep in #TeamHonkRelay is logistics. Trying to sort things out. Trouble shoot issues that have arisen, and try and be one step ahead most of the time.
How to get to John O Groats when Annie needs to leave her car in Southampton?
With all due apology to the lovely, brilliant Emma Kennedy (clang) for bastardising her book title (if you’ve not read “The tent, the bucket and me” buy it immediately) I thought this was a good time to reflect on the force of nature that is Team Honk.
Regular readers can skip the next paragraph.
There is one particular part of flying that really gets on my wick. Don’t get me wrong, I love flying. I love almost every aspect of it. Delays don’t particularly annoy me. Having to sit around for two hours ahead of check in are fine. Queues are all part of the process and don’t upset me. But one thing really does. And it is a really really silly thing. I admit that. But last week, having done four flights I was having to bite my fist.