Precious gift...

Backblipped 


When Fiona's dad David very kindly signed two of his Bash Street Kids comic strips for Alan earlier this week, I knew I had to include it in my journal for posterity's sake.  Such a lovely gift.  

David is in his eighties now and it fascinates me that his writing and signature look how I would expect an octogenarian's writing to look, llght use of the pen and slightly spidery, yet his artistic skills are unaffected and he's still drawing the comic strip as well as he ever did.  A true labour of love.  

I've blurred the strip as I was worried I'd be breaching copyright law if I didn't.

Today I spent the day ironing in preparation for friends staying at the weekend.  Four sets of bedlinen as well as the usual mountain.  Quite an achievement.

In the evening David and I were meant to see Rufus Wainwright at the Royal Concert Hall in Glasgow.  I've been looking forward to it for a year but  a headache came on my just after 5pm and I just couldn't shift it.  Much as I adore Rufus, the thought of making the journey, far less listening to a live band, was not appealing so poor D had to go on his own.

He returned just after midnight saying Rufus was amazing as usual (I knew he would be) and had been on stage from 8.20pm till 11.00pm.  Excellent if my head had been fine but there's no way I would have enjoyed it tonight.  Such bad luck.

In the end, I took a second lot of strong painkillers just as David left and snoozed on and off sitting in my chair in the garden room, lights off in peace and quiet, for the entire evening.  I felt much better by the time David got back.

D bumped into work colleagues at the concert who he hasn't seen since he took early retirement two years ago.  He was delighted but slightly embarrassed to hear he is greatly missed.  Apparently his replacement is "not fit to lick his boots!"