Saga of a woman old enough to know better who lets her life be governed by the ridiculous hobby of breeding and showing dogs, musing on life, the twenty first century, Cameron and his mini-me, and the occasional sheep.

Wednesday, November 01, 2006


Well, I`m getting there. On Saturday I made it to a party - well kind people took me there and brought me back and I didn`t have to do much beyond eat good food and look pale and interesting.

It was the 21st of one of my cousin`s boys. He has completed an economics degree and is taking a year out to see if he can make it as a pro golfer . We had an excellent get-together and a fine meal.

There was a cake in the shape of a golfbag. There was also a lot of small children. They were fascinated by the cake - they picked at it, they poked it, they broke over it like a wave. Not too many adults were eventually drawn to taste the cake....

As one of the elders present at an event like this it`s really expected that you will provide good advice for one setting out on life. I rose to the occasion as always, and found myself suggesting that one should sell one`s soul to buy Tesco shares and giving lots of pointers on how to disguise your online identity while doing illegal downloads.

The birthday boy wants to take 3 of us older ones out for a "lovely day to remember". Alas, he has let slip that the reason for the trip is that he doesn`t expect us still to be there when he gets back from the year`s golfing adventure, and he will be the one doing the remembering. The three of us are amazingly unimpressed by this effort to bury us quickly and I think if we do go we will set our minds to really giving him something to remember....

Knowing the three of us, maybe a night in the cells....?
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