Olympic viewing

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You have to do it, however unsporting by nature you may be.

Today I took in about fourteen hours of Olympic coverage, courtesy of Auntie.  The equestrian venue at Greenwich was a pleasure to look at even without the horses. Later I retrospected some rowing and then watched athletics all evening.  As always, our gallant BBC chaps were predicting success as if they had never heard of commentator’s curse.  They felled a fair number of GB competitors, but a few defied the hex which was nice for them.

Occasionally the commentary became disconnected from the broadcast and only environmental sounds could be heard; it was extraordinarily restful.  Listen up, guys, this may surprise you, but I don’t care if Ludmila Expositana has an uncle who once visited Torquay and collected teaspoons in his spare time.

Meantime the knitting is coming on briskly.

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