Huzzah! For Wales: for getting further than anyone imagined in that football competition with the wrong-shaped ball, and funny unfathomable off-side rules..
Huzzah! For Lewis Hamilton: at Silverstone ( and for Force India for another great result!)
Huzzah! For Theresa May (whatever your political persuasion) for getting a grip on the tiller. Someone needed to.
Blimey, it's all been happening here. I have to add a personal Huzzah! For surviving a visit to the son et lumiere this weekend. I had to go because Dearest was having a friend to stay for a Birthday Bash. Yes, loyal readers, it was Malcolm. So yes, I blame my latest brush with Death on Malcolm. And why not? Being a bloke, he will never read this.
I gathered up my overnight bag and de-camped to Belsize Park on Friday night. This took enormous dedication of spirit on my part, as it meant that I had to say goodbye to the walls I'd watched being papered in our bedroom all day, and say hello to a bedroom striped with experimental Shades of Grey (Honestly, Farrow and Ball grey... What are you like?)
Obviously, this was not a real problem, as it was counter-balanced by spending an entertaining evening with our son who introduced me to a new gin called Copper House (by Adnams). Delish! And totally different from Hendricks ( my gin of choice). I mention this in passing because it has very little to do with the possible, but not conclusive, hangover I may, or may not, have experienced on Saturday morning.
I showed my son my ex-bunionated foot on Saturday morning. He thought the wound had healed well, but we both noticed that the big toe is standing slightly proud of the ground. We thought that I might mention this to Mr Singh as this might be affecting my gait.. This was before I took a shower in his bath which has a shower attachment over.
Well, it did have a shower attachment over; and it still has a shower curtain rail with the tiniest crack by the wall fixture...
The shower curtain actually saved me, as this was the moment in my life when I transitioned from the agility and sure-footedness of a Welsh mountain goat into someone who goes off-piste sans skis. Bloody hell! I slipped, slalommed into the shower curtain which saved me, but caterpalted me against the opposite wall, whereby I grabbed the shower head to avoid total freefall. It could have been nasty.
So .. Huzzah! I survived another visit from Malcolm... He's blissfully unaware. Bless.
Not this Mother's Ruin?
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