On anything but China.

Sorry but there is still loads I want to write about China, but I realise I have scared most of my visitors off by going on and on about it so I will try and come up with a post that doesn’t descend into ‘And whilst I was in China....’


There’s been lots going on since I got back. On the bank holiday Monday a group of us sprung a surprise on our wonderful friend Anne (the one who paid for us to go to China. So far not a great start to the Not Mentioning China resolve but I think it did need to get mentioned there). Anne was 50 the other weekend and had organised a party, but we wanted to do something for her so we got a private room in a restaurant down in London to which she was lured under false pretences. There followed much piss taking on issues as important as hair styles Anne has worn, and outfits she has been seen alive in (some rather serious crimes against fashion were recalled), but mainly it was a very emotional day. I’ve known Anne for over thirty years, and all of us have been through so many ups and downs, but above all that we have had so many laughs. Lots more laughs were added that day.

As for her party itself: Well in many ways it was simply wonderful. More champagne than I have ever seen in my life and a chance to catch up with people I don’t see so much anymore. Rather unfortunately for me though I must have been exuding my ‘I am a social worker’ radar as when ever I asked anyone how they were I didn’t get the much desired ‘I’m absolutely fine thank you’ response. Instead I got the full uncensored version of everyone’s own version of a Mid Life Crisis. It was all rather depressing !

The day we came back from holiday (where was it you went again Jane?) was the day my son’s A Level results were out. As we arrived back late in the afternoon he had no way of getting them that day, but he went on the internet on his phone after we landed and was able to see that he had got his place at the university he wanted to go to. He was so overjoyed that he cried. Seeing him cry, plus the realisation that he really will be leaving home in October, made me cry. Seeing me cry made me daughter cry. My eldest son who is not leaving home managed not to cry but instead started planning how he was going to re-arrange his bedroom now he will finally have a room of his own.

Reidski and I have had some lovely times together as usual. I still can’t believe how lucky I was to meet him through blogging of all things. We get on so incredibly well. Anyway, on Saturday we went to see Richmond Fontaine in Bedford and I loved them. I hadn’t seem them before and didn’t really know what to expect whilst Reidski spent much of the concert chatting away to them so intimate is he with them and their sounds. This most have been rather irritating for anyone there to listen to their music as opposed to their chit chat with some Scottish geezer but no one complained (not audibly at least).

We spent the night in a hotel where there was a wedding party in full swing. I sort of wish I had the descriptive powers to pass on to you the sheer horror of the frocks on display but I don’t really want to illustrate the full dimensions of my snobbery. Let’s just say tight fitting, revealing, day-glo colours and tattoos and draw a veil over what the women were wearing 

Bedford has a very significant Italian community and we had the most fabulous meal before we went to see R.F here which if we had eaten it in Italy would have provoked months of ‘You could never get that standard of food outside of Italy’ talk. The following day there was an Italian Festival going on, complete with naff singers in white suits, waltzing grandmothers, lots of Italian motors and a splattering of Juventus football shirts. It was fun.

Much to the envy of my kids Reidski has done the almost impossible and got us a couple of tickets to see Jay Z at this one off gig in Camden. My kids pointed out that I will most probably be the oldest person there. I will try not to mind too much.

Work has been tough recently. Far too many intensely complicated scenarios that I am trying to juggle. Though nothing was as bad as Saturday afternoon when I found myself scouring woodland to locate two kids aged 5 and 6 who had done a runner from our annual Family Day. I really wasn’t too sure how exactly I was going to explain to their parents how I had succeeded in mislaying their children –although thinking about it, as the children in question were so particularly badly behaved, their parents may have considered I had done them a favour. But talking of work my lunch time is up so back to the coal face of human misery I go. It’s just like Anne’s party all over again, but without the champagne.