I was wrong about the weather readers, today was much more miserable than yesterday, although it did pick up for yours truly when I logged on to Facebook and read this wonderful email from Mr Coleman.
"Sorry I have not been commenting on your blogs over the last 3 weeks, but recovering from the heart op has used up much of my energy. This doesn't mean I have not been following your blogs with zeal - on the contrary, they have kept me motivated (even though laughing out loud - as your blogs tend to make me do - hurts like ****!) I'm feeling just great now and have already made plans to be back at school in January. Best of luck with the "Read My Blog" campaign - I'm following your progress with great interest - even thinking of running a book on it! If ever a blog deserves to be read, it's yours!" Cheers - MrC
It's so good to hear from him again. (Although, and I asked Mr C this question. Is it grammatically correct to say I heard from him, when the communication was in writing? (Answers on a comment below!)
More great news on Facebook is that the Friends of Barry Newsdesk currently stands at 27 members (so, minus me, that's the same number of followers following the blog). Amazing, I think my good friend Mess helped drive the number up, he emailed a whole bunch of his mates and urged them to join!)
And this piece of brilliant news on Facebook was followed by the news that David Cameron et al might have just shot themselves in the foot. They've suggested that if they come to power they'll up the age of retirement to 66 and save themselves a massive wedge on pensions.
I happen to think it's an outrage, a lot of pensioners fought and died in the wars for people like David Cameron, the toffy nosed twat, to come along and take away their basic human rights.
I don't know the exact figures readers, and I can't really be chuffed with visiting Wikipedia to find out, but you've got to expect a good proportion of the blue coffin dodgers won't like that news one bit. If they switch sides, we might just see David Cameron miss out on the title! I should imagine there could be some sort of uprising. And I'm not talking about the kind of uprising bloody Roger gets on his Viagra!
OH - that reminds me, following my return to form and Mr C's return to good health, I decided to take up my fav teacher's advice and patch things up with Mum. Now, for you newer readers who have yet to make your way through the back catalogue, I'll give you a quick truncated recap .
I love my Mum, more perhaps than all the Cobra and Fray Bentos that money could buy. She's more than mother, she's like an aging best friend, sure she's not with it when it comes to the zeitgeist, she doesen't really share my eclectic tastes in music, indeed, we're talking about a woman here who owns the entire back catalogue of Chris de Burgh. But she's always been there there for me, through thick and thin. Until, that is, she met Roger.
Roger is basically a canny old gold digger that managed to get his hooks into my inheritance, unbelievable really. Anyway, when push came to shove, I asked Mum to make the choice that no son hopes he'll ever have to make. It was a case of me or him.
I was forced into divorcing Mum and vowing never to speak to her again. Well, plenty of water has passed under the bridge, and Mr C's close shave with the Grim Reaper, combined with the news that pensioners would have one more year to wait until they could cash in their chips and sponge of the state, encouraged me to give her a ring this evening.
I can't say it was easy, but - and it's a small step at this stage - I think I will be able to see it in my heart to forgive her. Forgive, I might add, but not forget.
This change of heart doesn't mean for one second that I'm prepared to get on with Roger, but I will tolerate him, for now.
Anyway, Mum invited me up to Lincoln this weekend, and I've got to admit, the thought of her roast beef and Yorkshires is going to be with me all the way up the A1.
Also, I'm looking forward to quizzing Roger about Cameron's pledge. Can't wait to see the look on his face!! lol!
All the best