Tired and drunk

The weekend went pretty much as I hoped it would.

I couldn't eat any more jelly beans, for some reason I only had a couple and then I found them too much. I left them on the coffee table and unbeknown to me Gabriella's friends ate them all. She told me she was going to berate them with a comment such as " Why have you eaten all my dad's Jelly Beans that are the only source of pleasure left in his otherwise miserable life?" but thought it might make her sound a bit mean. And it would be the sort of thing I might say just for a bit of fun. She doesn't want to be like me, but I think it too late. She told her mum she learnt a valuable lesson when wheeling me about amongst the crowds for the Eng v Australia rugby match. We had been given parking by the stadium but it was a long way away from our seats and she had a Damascus experience pushing me through the crowds of merry, drunk, mostly large, men who didn't see me at all. I asked her not to force me into the legs of these adult men, and to try to aim at the good looking women, but she didn't have the control of the wheelchair that a strong man might. It was a disturbing experience for her, because it was like I , a large 16 stone man, had suddenly and inextricably become invisible. She also got quite angry at a couple of able bodied men who insisted on climbing into the wheelchair access only area to facilitate their going to the toilet at half time, but they used the body of a severely disabled man sat next to me, who's carer had gone off to get him a cup of coffee, to haul themselves up onto our level. I haven't seen her so annoyed for a long time, and in a strange way I was pleased that this incident had aroused a strong sense of outrage in one so young. I must have done something right when raising her after all, although I think she is naturally anti-bullies and it has nothing to do with me. She came out with a profound comment to her mum about this whole experience that made me realise that it was a brilliant day out for me and her together, and that's what it's about folks.
So she came back and her friends came to the house and set off for the firework display together, and following that she brought them back and cooked hot dogs for them all. I noticed the kitchen was clean and tidy on our return and queried if the event had taken place, but she smiled and told me that she had made sure there was no mess. I think all the worries about how she might turn out were pointless. We had her down for a job as a government torturer or debt collector, but my work is done gentlemen, she is becoming a responsible mature and caring adult. I still have a lot to teach both my daughters, my font of wisdom has a few more tricks to pass on to them, so I'm not going anywhere for a long time. I say that because I have been preparing mentally for the possibility of bad news next week.

So how did it go at Nigel and Lynda's I hear you ask. Well I tried a spectacular single malt, and I could taste it as it sat on my tongue, which I was really pleased about as my tongue is a mess these days. Then it was on to a fine bottle of white Grande Vin De Bordeaux, followed by a red that tasted great, and ended with a mature bottle of Port that I had trouble seeing properly. The food was excellent, and as the conversation heated up with N & L as brilliant hosts, it was one of the best evenings I have had at friends ever. Nigel has a photo in his toilet of when he was the base player in a well known band, and he looked like a pretty boy back in the day. He has matured a lot since and like us all has become less obviously pretty and more debonair.

Will had a go at the sermon I mentioned in my last blog. He concentrated more on the taking of a life I thought, and in particular the area of abortion. He started with a health warning, and ended with an apology as there were a few tears in the congregation and a few people clearly found it difficult. I did get a mention, but it was veiled so only I knew it, which I was pleased about because he's not usually that subtle. But as far as the wood on my driveway is concerned, I didn't get round to a heckle. I think it might have been inappropriate and totally insensitive to the feelings of people effected by the sermon. Next week he is talking about sex, so I'll be there and you should be too. I will be selling tickets for this talk if you want to attend. And then the week after that it will be about race, which is very topical, and could cause a few more people to get upset, or at least that's how Will is selling it, although I don't know why. People have different skin because their ancestors have had to deal with different climates. Even today, if I were to live in a hot and sunny climate, I would struggle without sun lotion, and may well develop a fatal skin condition. God has enabled our bodies to develop and deal with this eventuality by adjusting our pigmentation. It doesn't mean that anyone is better than anyone else, just they are different to some up here in the North of the World where it is always cold and get two days of sunshine a year. Eventually people of colour's descendants will be pale and Lilly skinned like me, although I must confess that I feel I am genetically blessed having been born as one of God's chosen people from Cork.
Rosanna had a great night in Brighton and came home safely. She decided not to go to a club because everyone seemed too drunk and rowdy, and she didn't feel safe. Instead she sat on the beach with her friend and ate chips. Now that's what I call a good night out.
I am going for a lie down now as the weekend has tired me out. What with all that thinking I don't feel too good, hope not to be sick. Got friends round for dinner, but not sure I will be able to join in as can't see the screen anymore. Good job I can touch type.