Happy St. George's Day to the English amongst you; Happy Birthday William Shakespeare; and Happy London Marathon Day too!
As usual, apart from the once I actually ran the thing (and I freely admit that Paula Radcliffe beat me by some distance that year - in fact I was trundling across Tower Bridge as she was crossing the finish line), we went along as marshalls, preventing people who live South of the Highway from crossing the road to get to Shadwell Station at the crossing they usually use, and making them walk half a mile to the underpass instead. There was some disgruntlement, but not many we had to wrestle to the ground (well, none, actually).
Mostly we were surrounded by spectators happy to stay put, or active supporters stopping off to cheer their runner past before moving on to the next vantage point.
We were there to support our friends too, although it's surprisingly difficult to pick out any particular person amongst the throngs going by, unless they are frantically trying to attract your attention. We saw Abby Pentland(one of the nursery children)'s mum because she shrieked "Mrs Davies!" at me as she ran through, going nicely at a sub 4 1/2 hour pace, it seemed.
We had 2 chances, because on the Highway, they run by on the outward side at about the half way point of 13 1/2 miles, and come back on the other side of the road, having circumnavigated Canary Warf, at 22 miles. We saw Angie and Stephanie both ways, but caught most of the others just once. They all looked relatively happy - I hope they all hit their target times.
There was the usual motley crew of characters - we saw at least 3 Elvis's, Father Christmas; a giant Bob the Builder, 4 rhinos, countless fairies, female and male, and loads of neon coloured wigs. One couple got married en-route and then ran in their wedding gear - yes, she had a full length satin gown, veil and bouquet, and he was in jacket and cravat. The Bride's parents accompanied them - they weren't near the front!
We cheered the blind runners; shouted out to those with their names on their T shirts, especially if they looked as if they were struggling; applaudeded the disabled; wondered at the ones still at halfway after 4 hours on course (Why do they bother? Yes, I know they're raising money for charity, but why not do the Run For Life - it's only 5k, for goodness sake!) and tactfully looked away when the non-finishers' bus went by, collecting them from various points en-route.
We came away at 3.30 - the vast bulk had passed us by then, so anyone crossing the road could easily weave between slow moving stragglers, and enjoyed chatting to proud medal wearers on the train home.
It was a good day.

I would upload a picture or two of our trip to York - but I keep leaving my camera at school. We had a pleasant time, revisiting favourite places that we hadn't seen in several years. The Minster was as lovely as ever. We stayed just nearby, off Gillygate, so we passed it every day, and saw it in all lights from all angles. Like Lincoln, it is currently without scaffolding on the best fronts (unlike Nelson's Column, anyone who hopes to catch a glimpse while they're in town for tomorrow's Marathon - it's completely shrouded) and looking its stunning best.
We were also glad to see Fairfax House again - I think 18th Century is my absolute favourite period for interiors - as well as the Treasurer's House (full of small children earnestly seeking the tiny yellow chicks secreted in every room, and larger children looking for various other beasts in the furnishings) and the Merchant Adventurers Hall.
We saw the Emperor Constantine Exhibition at the City Museum - I still think of Roman as really rather recent after Egypt, but it was still interesting - and the revamped Castle Museum.
This was a treat. I remember being very impressed as a child, when it was very inovative, and underwhemed as an adult, when it had been superceded by better versions of Victorian streets elsewhere - now they have added more interiors and living history people etc, and it's back up there being impressive again.
We inadvertently became telly stars for a day, when we visited the Railway Museum and discovered that a) It was the opening day of the much delayed York Eye, and b) We were the first in the queue, on account of being turned out of our B&B just after 9, and it not opening till 10. So we were interviewed by Yorkshire TV, and several newspapers, and saw ourselves on the local news that night. We had to say that it wasn't as good as the London Eye, and a bit of a disappointment, but worth doing once. You don't actually see that much from it, as it's not very high, and not in the city centre, and you have to sit still in your seat.

As well as watching the Lord of the Rings extended DVD with appendices (I didn't quite manage ALL the appendices) and re-reading the books, it's that time of the year when I update my Family Tree Book. This tome now boasts over 200 pages of genealogy, not including the separate pictures and documents which get carried over from one edition to the next.
I call it a book, but I'm no Tolkien (although for those of you who found him sleep-inducing, perhaps I am) it's just a report that my computer software churns out, edited to make it read a little more smoothly. It still doesn't read very smoothly as, especially in the earlier generations when I don't know too much about the individuals, I've filled in with such snippets as the Civil War in Lincolnshire, the severe winters of the 1690's, the early Baptist Movement in Lincolnshire, the duties of a Parish Constable and life in a Victorian workhouse, and other gems of valuable information. But I love it. I have 16 generations of Descendants of Thomas Locking of Harmston now - I appear in generation 13, as does a little girl called Autumn Locking who was born this year in Canada, on Richard's birthday.
Anyway, I've only printed up to the 8th Generation so far, so I'd better press on.

Obviously Ian McKellen over Lawrence Olivier, but has anyone else seen Al Pacino's version in "Finding Richard"? I have a soft spot for that, I must say - Shakespeare for beginners.
And who did kill the Princes in the Tower? In the days of my girlhood, when I was still a romantic, and full of Josephine Tey and Paul Murray Kendall, I rooted for Henry VII.
Now I'm not so sure; but had I been Richard, living then (same era as Cesare Borgia et al) and in his situation, I probably would've.