It was Battleaxe's birthday this week - she is ageless, so there is no point even speculating about how old she might be.
Have been sitting square-eyeballed in front of the Olympics on telly for unsuitable amounts of time - at least I have the excuse of resting my bad foot (see last blog). In common with the rest of the nation, I have become avid GB medal-counter, but have also watched really obscure things..... Have enjoyed the coverage, but I don't like the painfully drawn-out interviews with the winners and losers - a few words and one comment, gasp, grunt or sob, fine, but I don't really want to know the details of how they feel.... why is so hard just to leave us to guess the obvious - happy if they win and gutted if they lose.
Some of the stuff is downright incomprehensible - who understands the rules of the cycling Omnium, for example - but it all drifts past the eyes in a parade of rock-hard thighs, washboard stomachs, rippling biceps....
One present I received for my birthday was a nice knitted Usain Bolt. Here he is below.
On my birthday the Philosopher and I went to see an amazing film 'Once Upon a Time in Anatolia' in the Electric Palace in the Old Town. It is Turkish, and remarkably intense. One reviewer said that watching it was like reading an incredibly good book while sitting in an uncomfortable chair - you were aware of discomfort but were still totally gripped. In our case, the uncomfortable chair bit was literally true - the film lasts over 2.5 hours, and the seats in that cinema are hard - but we were still totally gripped.