Granny V

If I ever met my paternal grandmother, I was too young to remember it. I only remember the immense love and admiration my father had for her. Both she and my maternal grandmother lost their husbands young - to illness, not to war. Granny V had a hard time to put food into her children's mouths, like so many others in those days, and my father left school at 14. When she died, he found his first wage packet, two shillings and sixpence, among her few and most treasured possessions.

HH's neurologist, who has successfully controlled his Parkinsons for a long time, retired a few weeks ago. Today, with some apprehension, we went for a consultation with his wife, who has taken over the practice - would she be as good? Happily, we came away very reassured. Fingers crossed that the adjustments to his medication will be effective.

One of the time-wasting subjects of the day was what to wear for a smart wedding on a smart beach down the coast. Wear light-coloured, easy clothes, they say - but a) most of the ladies will still dress to kill, and b) the forecast is for rain, and the rain in that area isn't to be taken lightly. Tricky.

Granny V might have thought this a frivolous concern.