Marigold

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I think that’s what this is? It’s a photo I took a our six years ago. It makes me think of grassy banks and hot blue skies, fluttering butterflies and old black poplar trees in a line. Of little dusty paths with small oval pebbles that scatter as you walk. Of running through the fields around our school doing cross country running. Memories of the old rusty fences that enclosed the laying fields. The running track, the hockey fields, the tennis courts, the netball courts. When I think of my old comprehensive school I realise how lucky I was. Memories I haven’t delved into for forty years. I wouldn’t go back but it’s good to remember.

Tour de France

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This time if year my hubby is glued to the TV for the tour. He watches it every year. For the last few years British riders have won but there is nothing to say it will happen this year. Chris Froome is out with a broken thigh and Geraint Thomas had a fall just before it started but he’s in the race.

The tour travels around France but often starts in different countries. They travel for three weeks. Climbing mountains and doing sprints, time trials and trying to win various jerseys. There is a polkadot Jersey for the best mountain rider, a green jersey for the fastest sprinter and the yellow Jersey is for the best overall rider and ultimately the winner. Who ever it is, as long as he is in the lead when the tour reaches Paris he is the winner. It is exciting to watch.