I whole heartedly admire people who bring up lively sporty boys in England! I have spent more hours in the wet, soggy, drizzly park playing football and cricket on damp grass these last 2 weeks than ever! June 2012 in the UK must be the wettest, coldest on record. Maybe the sun is saving itself for the Olympics. Anyway we will be returning to India with sniveling colds but otherwise rejuvenated by 2 weeks on western soil.
England was all of a patriotic quiver - whether from the Queen's jubilee, looking forward to the Olympics with a splash of with Euro 2012 thrown in, I don't know. Tho' we watched England fail on the footie pitch last night in a style as nondescript and depressing as the grey weather. Wimby starts today, which means the newspapers will yet again be full of the will he?, won't he?, this is his time ......Andy Murray speculation, but surprisingly only a sprinkling of white clouds in the sky with a hint of blue lurking beneath, not the usual Wimbledon grey.
Anyway patriotism seems to have struck hard and strong. Union Jacks and the red cross of St George flying (and flapping in all the cold wind). Even the most unexpected, fashion conscious of people flaunting Union Jack bags and shoes. Tee shirts and hoodies in the blue, red and white abound. We had already left the UK when Lady Di died and weren't in the country for Kate and Will's nuptials last year, the most recent patriotic outpourings. I vaguely remember street parties for the diamond jubilee when I was a kid and my mother taking the train (and a footstool) down to London when Charles married Di, but nothing on this scale. This national patriotic flying of the flag seemed very unBritish, in a nice sort of way. Maybe in times of economic hardship the jubilee and Olympics come as a welcome distraction and opportunity for the UK, if not the sun, to shine. Or maybe we are just celebrating our distance from the troubled Euro!
These were some of more incongruous uses of the flag as an advertising tool....
Below -the latest in medical aids... offered to buy my Dad one but he declined, preferring his unadulterated wooden version.