Yesterday, Andrea Spendolini Sirieix won a gold medal at the Commonwealth Games in the 10m platform diving competition. She is only seventeen so this is a marvellous achievement, but it has received more attention because she is the daughter of somebody considered to be a celebrity in Britain.
Her dad, Fred, is most well known for being the maitre d in the popular First Dates show. But it was Andrea that took the spotlight last night as she put in a brilliant performance in the pool.
But for me, it was the pictures of Fred, beaming in the stands that made me smile the most. There is something so special about the close bond between a father and daughter, and when a dad is proud of his girl it makes your heart feel fuzzy.
I spent a lot of my twenties feeling really awful about myself because of the drinking that I just could not kick. I tried to overcome this shame by doing stupidly difficult challenges like swimming the Channel – anything to make myself like a worthwhile human being.
I genuinely thought that my own father hated me and was ashamed of me. However, one day I was working at the gym and I was signing up this guy who I thought I recognised. It turned out he worked with my dad and I had remembered him from my parents’ wedding.
“You’re Dave’s daughter, aren’t you?” he said as he signed his membership form.
“I am,” I replied.
“I work with your dad,” he confirmed. “Your dad always talks about you and what you’ve done. You’re a bit of a legend in our office.”
I was lost for words. It’s very British of us, not to talk about being proud of each other, and my dad is VERY British. However, I wish he had told me that he was proud, perhaps it would have stopped me from beating myself up with alcohol.
I obviously don’t blame my parents for my drinking – that’s all on me – but I’m glad that Fred shows his pride so publicly. And I hope that Andrea appreciates it and has a far healthier mindset than I had as she goes into her adult life.
I have things I like about camping, and things that I really hate. Last time I camped I had to sleep in my jeans every night because I was so cold. I must have slept for about three hours a night as I tossed and turned on that inflatable mattress that slowly deflated throughout the night.
However, I may be in the minority here, but I really love going over to the shower block each morning. I know that a lot of people probably find it a bit scummy, but having slummed it for a whole night, I love popping on my flip flops and trekking across the campsite with my towel under my arm.
I remember when I was a kid, loving putting the 20p into the timer and then racing to get washed before the water cut off.
And then there’s something so refreshing about walking back to your tent with your hair freshly washed and the coutryside air on your face. It feels very wholesome.
I was just taking a shower today and my ankles were really muddy from going on a run on the trails, and I just had this little memory bubble up, of being all mucky when camping, and enjoying scrubbing myself clean. It inspired me to write a little something and I kind of felt it necessary to explain why.
I’ve recently discovered TikTok – I know I’m late to the game. I have obviously heard of it before, but I thought that it was only for doing dance routines.
I have found that I really like watching the spoken word TikToks and I’ve come across some really beautiful poems. I think that the marriage between poem and images works really well.
I then stumbled across these videos of the people who sit in Central Park with a typewriter. They ask passersby if they would like a poem written especially for them and then they just type something out on a postcard that the person can keep.
It’s possibly the most rmonatic thing I can think of, and my little INFP brain adores everything about it – especially the fact that it’s typed out on a typewriter.
I live on the side of a park and I want to go out and do my own poetry generation. Unfortunately I live on a pretty rough council estate so I have a feeling that most people would take a wide berth around me, thinking that I may be high on something.
Even if I can’t do it for other people, I may need to purchase my own typewriter and hammer my own little word gems.
Down the slender line of her aged and curving spine,
These clothes that have been worn by hundreds,
Smelling musty, their history palpable,
She just wishes that the heat would die,
Its sting taken out of this enfless day,
That the photographs would be taken
So that she can shed these layers like
A butterfly, spreading its wings and taking flight,
A new world there, in the sepia images,
A fleeting moment, before she begins the fight.
I try to stay off Facebook as much as I can because it just makes me angry, but when I have taken the time to sneak a peak recently, I have noticed that there have been loads of graduation photos (please note, these do not make me angry).
I do love a good graduation and I wish that we did it for more than just finishing university. I know that in other countries kids have a graduation ceremony at the end of almost every stage of their school career.
Here, we do have the big shirt signing event that is normally done out on the school field at the end of secondary school. We wear uniform in this country, so it’s fun to get our school shirts signed by all our friends and teachers on the last day. As a teacher, I’m looking forward to having a Year 11 class so that I can do the whole shirt signing thing as a grown up.
I do feel sorry for some of the people who have had their graduation ceremonies over the past few weeks as I can imagine that it was incredibly hot. Wearing those caps and gowns must have been unbearable.
I do hope that despite the weather, that they all had fun. For my first graduation the moment felt so overwhelming as I’d studied with a baby in tow, and it felt like such an achievement to get to the end. It was also held at The Barbican in London which has had so many amazing people and orchestras perform there.
We have the Commonwealth Games going on in Birmingham at the moment and there has been a bit of a fight between the Australian press and the swimmers which I have found really interesting.
It is Kyle Chalmers, the Australian 100m freestyle champion, who put out a statement on Instagram asking the Australian media to just back off if they really want the team to perform to their best.
Now, I haven’t done too much research into what has happened but I think a lot of the attention that has been stirred up has come from the fact that Cody Simpson has joined their team. He is an ex-pop star who toured with Justin Beiber and dated Miley Cyrus and and one of the Hadid sisters.
I’m kind of torn about how I feel about the way press intrude on athletes, because Chalmers has a point – they are there to swim, and the press are riling them up and making that difficult.
On the other hand, these guys are professionals and I think that everybody in the world has a responsibility to manage how they react to others. These swimmers are trained to get on with the job no matter what is going on in the outside world, and I’m actually quite surprised that Chalmers has got so upset about it.
I’ve never had the press intruding on my personal life though, so I can’t really comment and say that I would handle it any differently. I do wholeheartedly believe that people should be respected though, and perhaps the press need to back off and just judge these guys on what they are paid to do.
Wow, England just won the Euros, the first time any England team – male or female – in almost 60 years. And what a feeling to watch the girls bringing it home for us.
Women’s football in this country has been a bit of a joke until very recently, nobody took it seriously and it didn’t get the attention that it deserved. I don’t know whether it’s social media that has helped this squad connect with everyone, but something special has happened this summer and the country has just got on board with these women.
The commentators were saying that fifteen years ago the women’s game was begging stadiums to let them stage Euros matches and nobody would take the risk. And now they are selling out Wenbley Stadium.
The little girls that are watching this now are going to be entering a world where they aren’t laughed at because they want to play football, and one day they may even get paid the same as men.
Well done to those ladies, they have paved the way for so many and it’s made me feel really proud.
As cold beers are swallowed in cricket club houses.
I live on the edge of a lovely green park and during the summer it is used for all sorts of activities. There are tennis courts that are always busy and a Junior Parkrun takes place every Sunday morning.
But one of my favourite things about the park is the cricket that is played all Saturday afternoon. There is something so quintessentially English about that sound of the ball hitting the bat and the slightly restrained clapping of the spectators.
I used to go to the cricket with a friend of the family when I was about seven. I used to love the vibe of the club house, with the women in beautiful summer dresses serving tea and sandwiches as we played on the edge of the green.
These summer days are so special and I know that it will only be a matter of time before the hot weather is blown away and the greens turn to the golden browns and reds of autumn. Until then, I will enjoy those endless summer afternoons of tennis and cricket and running. Autumn will bring its own joys in the form of hot water bottles and crochet blankets to read under.
