Swimming gala

I've been using Head and Shoulder shampoo of late.

You: Head and Shoulders? I didn't know you had dandruff...

Me: I don't. It was the first bottle I picked up from the shelf.

It's just as well I don't have dandruff and wasn't looking for a remedy because if you look on the small print on the back of the bottle it says it defines dandruff as "visible flakes from a distance of 2 feet." Surely a good wash with any shampoo would get rid of such enormous flakes of dandruff?

So, in fact, that ancient advertising campaign should have been...

You: Head and Shoulders, I didn't know you had dandruf

Me: Stand a little closer and you'll think you're at Slava's-freakin'-Snowshow.

I went to Aylesbury yesterday to watch my god son and his sister swimming in a local swimming club gala. It was such a lovely afternoon, which started at Raily and Iain's house with a lunch, which Iain tried to sell as a "savoury porridge." It sounded revolting, and for some reason made me think of snails but it actually tasted delicious. Meriel was there briefly with her girlfriend Elizabeth, and they swore blind that there's a more cheffy and appetising word for a savoury porridge. I wracked my brains to think of that silly-voiced woman in Masterchef who talks about jous, foams and soils, but couldn't bring a term to the front of my mind. If anyone reading this goes out to fancy restaurants, feel free to suggest a term, made up or otherwise.

The gala was great fun. People race, not in their age groups, but according to their personal best times, and there's a brilliant electronic board which displays the names of the swimmers, their lanes and the split times. The interesting aspect of racing against your ability is that you get a massive mix of ages in any single race. Swimming is one of those sports where you tend to plateau young, so nothing is predictable. Will (11) was racing a 50 year old, who only just beat him. We had a good laugh at the damned-if-you-do-damned-if-you-don't aspect of the scenario. If the 50 year old beats the 11 year old, everyone calls him mean. And if he loses everyone takes the Mick!

Medals are awarded by age however, so it can take a while to work out if your God son has won! Little Jeannie (6) was doing her first ever competitive race and the poor lamb got disqualified. She came last but the other girls in the race were two years older than her, so she'd have won a gold by default, but the disqualification meant she couldn't have a medal which seemed a little unfair, but I rather like that they're sticklers for the rules.

Anyway, Aylesbury has a wonderful swimming complex. There's a whole network of pools, many of which are interlinked, including one circular pool where the current sweeps people on a watery journey around a very camp palm tree. If people were in little boats, it would be a ride at Disney Land!