Silent Sunday

Silent Sunday

My name in the paper! Well, sort of …

Oh, to be twenty years younger, free to travel the world and paid to write. It’s too late for me but I shall live it through my clever and talented niece, who has lived and worked abroad and has a piece in the Daily Mail today! Brooke co-wrote the story - she’s a proper journalist you see (unlike me; I just pretend in my spare time. But am open to offers - writing offers that is - especially paid ones so I can be a proper journalist!) and she put together this article about Cryogenics. She’s always on the lookout for someone’s story to tell, so if you have something you think needs sharing in a magazine or newspaper, you can contact me via the email on The Daily Scatter - see ‘Letters to the Editor’ down the right hand side - and I’ll put you in touch. She can sing too; if I didn’t love her I’d hate her.

Funny she should mention Simon Cowell - the X-Factor audition panel told her she sounded too much like Celine Dion for them to consider her??!! Go figure …

3BT: A Weekend Away - getting there, family, music

They complain about the nagging and then make up rules like : You can’t wear jeans in the clubhouse. (You can pee on the floor, but you can’t wear jeans in the clubhouse). And if you’re going to have rules like that, you don’t just spring it on the wife at the last minute, when all she was going to do is drop you off at the golf club and have a bite to eat. Especially not when it’s en route to a hotel for a weekend away; you’ve sorted your party wear, you’ve sorted your travelling /casual for the next day wear - suddenly there’s a lunch outfit to sort, which changes the Sunday lazing around outfit - unless you’re taking a suitcase instead of an overnight bag. Jeez, men. They just don’t get it, do they? I ended up with fluffy legs due to the untried combination of black trousers and new lambs wool cardigan. It didn’t help that we left the party wear hanging on the banister and only realised twenty minutes into the journey. Still, we saw the second half of the West Ham v Hartlepool game. And lunch was very nice.

Unbelievable as it may seem, I’d never seen my brother’s kids in the same room at the same time! But his 50th was the reason I finally did. The older boy, now a dad himself; his sister, confident as DJ, hostess and Karaoke queen, my youngest niece, confident enough to accompany her batty aunt on ‘Love Shack’ - that’s a lot harder to sing than you think, you know, even after sundry Tia Marias. And the younger boy, feeling poorly but making it through.

We played 'The Best of Culture Club' in the car on the way home and the first line sung was “Give me time to recognise my crime.” I had to laugh. I know I shouldn’t but I just had to. Love a bit of irony, me. There’s also a great bamba song.

Three Beautiful Things on a Summer Weekend

Catching up with relatives unseen for years, including the new baby cousins and new other halves, at a family reunion.

Meeting the new additions at my brother in-law's house: Pupppies Skye and Nelly, border collie/cocker spaniel crosses and both completely loopy.

Coming home to find the candy-floss coloured bud in the lilac pot is now a rich fuscia lily in full bloom.