Flymo

"It's just hard work and grafting. Then anything is possible."
Mo Farah

aprecious is a mystery to me. This morning I am taken down the far reaches of the garden - the other side of the greenhouse - and made to stand next to a Flymo. Who knows what goes on in that woman's head? (Too much) I mean, as it goes, the Flymo is a nice colour and everything but it is not earth-shatteringly interesting is it? Judging by the length of the actual grass she doesn't use it very often anyway...

And this weird behaviour on top of last night's antics? Jumping about the living room and fist pumping? Shouting, "Fly Mo! Fly Mo!" I worry about her. I really do. I think she needs to see a doctor.

This is our tribute to Mo Farah. I like a pun I does and boy did he fly around that track! It's also inadvertently quite a good shot! This is a long way from the house, where professionals bring in major machinery to tame the grass - and you can see in to next door's field.

There were lots of things I enjoyed about last night. Mo flying round the track. Steve Cram lost for words, temporarily. The pundits jumping about. Mo kneeling to pray. Also there was Tom Daley and his bronze - 18 and pressured and just a year since his father died. And a very honourable mention to Luke Campbell, the gold medal winning boxer, who not only comes from Hull - my home town - but from the same district. What a pleasure to hear that accent ripple around the TV networks. For those who have never heard a Hull accent, it is unlike any other British accent - similar, but different. I'm not a particular fan of boxing but for this young man, to come from Hessle Road and get to the top of the pile, I will make an exception.