Walking back from dropping E. at school I see a plumber's van parked at the top of our road - 'Doctor House' the name of the outfit.

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News from the UK concerning the installation of missile pads on the roofs of apartment blocks in the eventuality of terrorist attacks. This follows on from other reports that it will be forbidden to take amateur film of events (say on your iPhone) and all food, drink and even fittings in competitors' accommodation must be by event-approved sponsors.

Surely someone other than a hard-bitten cynic such as myself must be thinking that the original spirit of the Games has been not so much forgotten as utterly crushed under a burly weight-lifter's foot? Wasn't it the Munich Olympics that proclaimed 'keep politics out of sport'? Well, why not let's have a new initiative 'keep marketing out of sport'. And for any smart arse who says how naive and that in this day and age the professionalisation of sport means events can only take place with enormous corporate involvement etc. that's precisely my point: go back to amateur competition.

L. has started doing doing Classics at school & piped up over dinner last night that weren't the Olympics originally for the gods? What disillusionment awaits ...

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Breathing more or less back to normal, catarrh drying up, the vague aches across the shoulders have disappeared. And the inner body climate seems to be more in line with what's going on outdoors. In short, I'm feeling better.

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News, too, from the UK of medical research into shrinking hearts. No doubt perfectly in line with government cuts and symptomatic of the culture as a whole.

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Thirty days have September, April, June and ... which means this is the end of pwoermd month 2012. Glancing back through the daily posts I reckon there's sufficient for a Sticky Pages volume and maybe I'll even do a separate little 'tomato' book. It'll be good to get the presses grinding again. I'll keep you posted.

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