I am only joking. We have had a lovely time away but it is time today to return to our  rented shoe box in the middle of the road in foggy London town. I have enjoyed being in big rooms where I could dance without hitting the walls every time I swung a cat. That has been lovely. At home there is very little chance of dancing except in the traditional Irish style with hands firmly by one’s side and using steps that  resemble the pogo.

I have also enjoyed spending time with the nieces, nephews and in-laws. There are so many of them! Check out my new year’s walk nearly a year ago (1/1/11) with a small handful of them here. I only have one living auntie, parents, one sister and 5 cousins on my side of the family. Mr P. has 10 living aunts and uncles and about 40 cousins, and a grandmother who has  over 50 grandchildren. You go to events at his neck of the woods and he does not introduce me to people, because there are so many of them, he does not remember so any of their names!  Over the years I have got to more than nodding acquaintance with very many of them, and what a varied cast they are, from car-line workers, forklift truckers,  lorry driver owners, pub landlords, pharmacists, teachers, nurses to surgeons. Yesterday Mr. P. was still too ill, so I went to watch masses of his family members go go-carting in a big place on the North Wales border. I wish I had had a go, no one was sure if the fact I did not drive might have hindered me, and also they all paid £35 each for the experience, which seemed grand as they all got to race round about 5 times and wear jumpsuits that made them all look like formula one drivers! cool.

So I am on my way home by now, let’s hope the train is not too packed and the mice have not had too much of a party since I left.

SONG OF THE DAY – Ace – how long has this been going on?

1975 eek. My first proper rock concert at the Roundhouse Camden. Went on the bus with a new date and some lads , my date  promptly ditched me. My mum made me clean the whole house before she would let me go. I had to phone my dad to come and rescue me from Radlett railway station after the journey home with the lads who did not speak to me and just left me there…thought he would be really cross and shout…but he didn’t..I wish I had washed my hair and  worn that hideous brown coat, then I am sure things would have been very different.ha ha ha . Funny that all these years later I remember the dilemma of wondering if I should wash my hair, or whether it would last another day……..Patrick Dennis, you should be ashamed of yourself!