The Fed. Large Ladies. Pimms.

I realise how pathetic I am and how sucked into the celeb culture I have become when I'm more excited by how many famous people I saw yesterday at Wimbledon than how many games of tennis. But its FUN! Starting with Clare Balding (didn't make any teeth jokes or, you look a bit like a man? comments), then Pat Cash, then Sheila Hancock, then some recognisably tall thin model, then Husband spotted some ex-Rugby-captain, then the One And Only Terry Wogan, Bobby Carlton - no sorry, Charlton - and these guys weren't even playing tennis. On court - I am not worthy, Centre Court no less, the first game was the God of Tennis himself, Monseiur Le Federer. Husband started using this sort of language the moment The Fed walked onto court: "How silky he is..." and "he really nailed that one" and "ah, another single handed back hand, just so much cleaner than double"... pretending to be a 5-Live comentator (every boys dream).
Meanwhile I was thinking, "when does he change his t-shirt" and "shame we're not sitting behind the umpire because that's where he throws his sweaty head-bands after the match" and "come on swap ends and come a bit closer to me..." and "oh, does he really have a pregnant wife?" I think I was aware of the game. He is very clever with his balls (fnar). But really! He is! He can do things like spin it! And get it back over the net VERY fast! And return serves that are over 125mph! Oooh, Ouch! Poor Federer! You slipped over. How many ladies want to help you back up?
So that was a good game.
The seats in Centre Court are a bit small and a bit sweaty and a bit close to each other. So when the largest lady out of all the 15,000 people seated in the arena squeezed in next to Husband, in a sort of lycra-cotton-mix-floral-low-cut-high-legged-skin-tight dress (and she looked like Vanessa Feltz! uncanny - but she wasn't) with tiny little stillettoes furnishing her rather swollen looking feet we got a bit juvenile & giggly and a bit hotter. And then, shock! A bumble bee mistook her for an extra-large-magnolia and flew up her sweaty skirt! Luckily no pollination took place and our Feltz-look-a-like flicked it out. But the Bee, determined to get some action, then landed back on her upper thigh and took a walk north. She meanwhile was discussing her stillettoes with her equally strange looking friend oblivious to Bee on leg. I insisted Husband alert her to the dangers (the idea of extra-large-magnolia being stung by a bee and going into shock during The Fed's game- too much... Husband giving mouth-to-mouth on her over-painted-red-lips... its enough to put anyone into shock just the thought...). She flicked said-Bee away and it flew carefree down towards our Tennis Hero... (Oh to be a bee... carefree, flying towards Ye...)

Anyway. Wimbledon. Top day out! So many people to watch! All the Clapham-ites there in their white jeans and pink Ralph Lauren shirts & slip on brogues. Lots of comedy people in wigs and 1970's tight shorts. Girls in minute designer dresses. Old people with macs (rain, not apple) just in case. Young people clutching beer & pimms. One fresh looking baby up in the stands screaming during a crucial set point for Mardy Fish (what a name! no wonder he lost!). Bewildered tourists. Camera's pointing to everyone everything everywhere. A strange couple sat in front of us... A man of about 55-60 escorting a young maybe Russian (well she had an accent...) extremely glamorous blond with piles of makeup and a complicated corsetted dress, pretty revealing - however her outfit was slightly down-graded by the fact she had some green loo roll stuck to her high-heel and on her back unbeknonwst to her, a large white pimple... I was this close to popping it.

All good wholesome London stuff.
Meanwhile Mol had a sleepover with her best buddy. Liz had a semi-sleep-over (I collected her when I got home) with her best buddy from nursery. When I went to get her, her best buddy had passed out on the sofa in front of a Michael Jackson Tribute (who is sad about this?) and Liz was in bed with best-buddy's-older-sister having an indepth conversation about their teddies. Covered in sweat as the room was way hot.
Ah. kids. wimbledon. life!