Sport.....Yes Sport.

Sport.

Anyone who knows me will probably be recoiling in shock at my use of the S word for a title. I have never been able to understand the mania that surrounds sport. Living on the Wirral as I did for many years I was constantly faced with the question Red or Blue? On giving the answer "I dont like football" One of three things would happen.

1. A complete look of disbelief followed by a hasty retreat
2. The answer would be ignored and the football discussion would carry on unabated, if one sided.
3. A cry of "are you gay or something" followed by a hasty retreat  just in case.

In every pub every night the conversation would revolve around how these fat beer swilling middle aged men could do so much of a better job than the young men they paid so much to watch, whilst wearing yet another hugely overpriced replica shirt, and £200 trainers.

I understand that competition between two opposing teams/individuals can be quite exciting but also that once that match/game/race is over shut up about it.

For my birthday, as usual, I had a long weekend watching drag racing at Santa pod. I enjoy this. Two cars or motorbikes head to head over a quarter mile. Apparently there are different classes and groups and even a championship league of some sort but I dont really care and it doesn't really matter. I like the loud and fast ones. And especially the ones that blow up or catch fire.

I don't then spend hours discussing how I could do so much better because I know I couldn't. I'm just happy to talk about the great day I have had watching it.

To the best of my knowledge there has never been a fight between opposing fans as everyone is there for a love of the event itself. Sitting on the grass cheering a fast time no matter who makes it. In the evening families wander round the pits to chat with the drivers and mechanics, no snobbery or elitism here. Try wandering into the dressing room at a football match and see what happens.

Combine all this fun with free camping,  kids under 16 free, live music, cheap beer and food, stunt shows and a fly past from a spitfire and you have a great weekend.

Roll on next year, my 50th birthday bash at Santa pod. All welcome.

A fast loud one nearly catching fire.

 A little confusion.

While we were at Santa pod Fabia had the task of mummy and doggy sitting. Friday her and Mum went to the Royal Academy where mum has been a member for many years. Fabia decided to spring the day out on mum rather than the gradual build up, a tactic that seemed to work very well. Mum was asleep on the train before she new what had hit her. Both had a lovely day.

As Mum would normally go to Fabias for mummysitting there was a little confusion. Mum couldnt work out where I was or why Fabia was there. As usual the diversionary tactics of gardening and food worked a treat. 

Now the Birthday season is over the planning starts for our summer holiday. Me, three slightly eccentric Ladies (one canine) set off for the south of France in the caravan. God help us all.