Archive for the ‘alcoholics anonymous’ Category

‘Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth’ (Buddha. as quoted by Harry Maguire of Manchester United)

August 29, 2020

And so, dear listener, this week I had my annual consultation with the good Dr J (who is not be confused with the good Dr W) about my heart. 🙂

(New listeners start here. December 2006, Cold Turkeyed. Primarily alcohol, and a few months later bad prostate cancer was found. Both sorted. No problems. No further treatment.

A few normal years doing a Post Grad and a Masters in Drink’n’Drugs followed by four and a half years working with the homeless and refugees but left with depression (but I’ve been told not to mention that missing USB stick ever again nor the idiot of an Area Manager) and then spent some time in hospital with heart problems. Both sorted. Some pills and just got two months repeat script today. I’m sure it’ll be fine during Brexit with Liz Truss in charge……..it won’t, will it?)

Still mustn’t grumble…….and I don’t. 😉

Dr J carried out the consultation over the phone and seemed happy but will arrange for an ecg for me later and we do face to face next year……..Oh, yes, we will! (08/09/21…….it’s through already)

So, I told people this and said it all went well. But no. There was a real fright. 😦

Y’see, I had received a letter telling me what would happen and explaining that I’d get a call at 3.15 or within that hour. So, I sat and stared at my mobile phone waiting for it to ring and we were about twenty minutes late and then FFS!!!!!!!!! The bloody landline rang!!!!! Jeez!!!!! What a fright!!!!!! My heart was pounding. Which is obviously a good thing under the circumstances.

Isn’t the NHS brilliant? The Maryhill Health Centre also seems to be pretty efficient at the moment and the pharmacist next to the ASDA, and everyone else who knows me. 😀

Which doesn’t include the UKPM who talks of mutant algorithms and makes things up as he goes along. I don’t. Well…….

I owe people an apology. For years I have told people that the phrase ‘back to square one’ comes from radio days when the Radio Times would contain a gridded plan of a football pitch with numbers so that listeners could follow the game as the commentator would say something like ‘and he’s crossed it over from Square Seven to the brylcreemed head of Farquhar-Smyth who’s passed to Blenkinsop in Square Six.’ I don’t know where my idea came from but I now realise *hangs head in shame* that it’s actually from Snakes and Ladders. That’s what you learn just cos The Chase finishes just before STV’s News at Six. 😀

Serious oops and serious apologies.

tioraidh, and still keeping it simple and fun

Iaint850, still confused by the Nutella and the banana.

So, I caused some confusion a couple of weeks ago when I talked about the loneliness of the long distance editor and a couple of folk asked after me so, this week, I’ll say it. I do get lonely at times. For example, in the early days of Lockdown. I could talk to neighbours but they all seem to have gone back to work. It’s dead quiet during the day. But I do know things could be an awful lot worse.

And other people have gone back to being busy or are not where they were before the pandemic and I’ll need to re-think all kinds of things so, as they say on Twitter, if you’ve any thoughts or suggestions, then my DMs are open. Please feel free to slip into them (Skippy, is that an innuendo?)

Or just contact me liked you used to.

And the editing is finished for a wee while, as universities work out some form of blended learning but nobody knows how many overseas students will arrive until they actually get here.

So, on Wednesday of this coming week, I have booked up to do something I’ve wanted to do for a while, but I didn’t think Nicola would allow it as safe distancing might be tricky. I won’t say too much now just in case ……..but I will tell you how I get on. 😉

(Good friend e and Son Brian know)

Oh, and before I go, in the world of ‘I told you so’, the nature of officework is being discussed.

One of the reasons I did the voluntary stuff for the SDF was cos, for one day a week, I had a water cooler to stand beside; I got introduced to new people and new people got introduced to me; contacts were swopped and ideas were discussed; and I interviewed people, attended drugs conferences and went to real training workshops. I haven’t done much for them recently. Certainly nothing that requires my attendance.

I miss the office and I don’t now when it will re-open but here’s a prediction. Or two. First, soon time office workers will start meeting each other for coffee (I’m free) but these will gravitate into larger and regular meetings. Somewhere.

And what about a really flexible working week with two days a week in the office and the reminder of the week working at home – until the day comes when the Rolls Royce pulls up outside your front door and your big bossman (or woman) stands there and says, ‘Can I have a wee word please?’ and after he tells you the bad news, you’ve not got a shoulder to cry on. They’re all working from home as well. 😦

Steve Earle’s boy died this week. He was called Justin Townes Earle and he was a singer/songwriter like his dad. So that’s why I chose Mama’s Eyes…for every child and their parents everywhere. And I’m not sure if my son has taken after me in any way. Sense and sensibility personified. I wonder who he does take after. But there’s a lot of the song that doesn’t apply. Honest

Football fans who won’t recognise the gross unfairness of Thistle’s situation are not worthy of the label.’ (The Guardian)

June 19, 2020

And so, dear listener, let me start with a tale of the unexpected, of something so shonky, that I still remain uncertain as to whether it happened or not – which may be typical of much of what happens in night-time Pandemic-land.

Was I fully asleep or merely drifting off when I heard it? The noise? A door creaking somewhere in the darkness but the doors in my house – a straightforward Barrett’s semi – don’t creak and, as I mention from time to time, I live alone. 😦

I was now awake and there was a pattering noise. Birds on the roof maybe? I realised that I was stock still in bed and had gooseberries running up and down my body. Then, as happens, I needed the toilet. Was all this connected? I made it to the toilet and sat down on the loo – with the bathroom door wide open. This was to keep my eyes on the stairs as much as anything else.

I just sat and stared at that bit of the stair where a head would appear before the rest of the murderer’s body (OMG! Can you imagine seeing that?)……….but nothing. I finished and washed my face and hands and stared at the bathroom mirror (OMG! What if a strange face appeared then?) and I risked the walk back to the bedroom. 😦

I switched the light on and looked in the wardrobe and under the bedclothes and I risked it. I shouted out. ‘If there’s anyone in this house I have just dialled the first two numbers for the police and it just needs one more nine.’

But nothing. I lay down and drifted off and woke up the next morning. Alive. Obviously. 😀

Apart from that it’s been a quiet week. I must stop watching programmes like Evil Killers and Killer In My Village at weird times just cos I’m bored. That may have contributed to my midnight caller. The worst ever was The Human Centipede.

I once watched this at about 3 in the morning. OMG! It is awful. How could any movie show such degradation and horror I wondered? It is the pits. Apart from any plot inconsistencies.

There is actually a sequel. It is called The Human Centipede 2. No. I haven’t and I don’t intend to.

So, not a lot has happened this week. Like a lot of people I’m slightly disappointed with some of what the First Minister had to say and it looks like I may be meeting people for coffee in the middle of the Botanic Gardens rather than the pavement on Highburgh Road next to Tinderbox. Fine. I prefer the picnic benches next to what used to be the Herb Garden there anyway. 🙂

And I know I’m not the only one who has already let people (my grandkids) use the toilet in my house – two weeks ago – although technically I wasn’t allowed to and I did nip into someone’s kitchen last week, whilst visiting them in their back garden, to wash my hands. There has to be an element of common sense, of taking responsibility for ourselves and our actions.

And the NHS continues to function efficiently and effectively as far as I am concerned. Not only did I receive my usual two-monthly repeat drugs but I did get a letter from the delightful Dr Shona who is the heart specialist I see once a year at Stobhill. Except I’m not going to this year. Instead it’s all going to be done by phone.

But how are they going to ultrasound test my heart this year? Will someone be sent round to my house with all the kit and that jelly. Who knows, dear listener, who knows? I make no apology for the fact that the last few months, for me, have been about me staying alive. I have lost too many months over the years. I have much still to achieve.

Dominic Raab, that sounds like a line from Game of Thrones. Is it?

And finally, there’s been a certain amount of chat about the Scottish Government’s adoption of ‘Stay Safe’ as opposed to ‘Stay Home’ and the English ‘Stay Alert’; some people asking what does it really mean and others saying, ‘Well I’ve been using it for three months’ and both are pretty valid points of view.

I’ve been using it for almost fourteen years now and first became aware of it after Cold Turkey when I started to go to an addiction worker called Moira and met more folk in recovery (see blogs passim) and it’s a way of saying cheerio to someone and hoping that they stay safe (sober or clean or whatever) until the next time you meet and that somehow they, and you, manage to chart a path through various lifestyle issues.

You’ll hear me use it, for example, when I give money to someone in the street and it may have connotations of me knowing what you’re going through but it also suggests that you have got to work hard to stay safe.

These are still challenging times; staying safe is a challenge and we need to continue to abide by government guidelines for a wee while longer yet.

Please.

Tioraidh, still keeping it fun and simple and looking forward to Coffee in the Gardens (available on pre-order from the Rainforestriver)

Iaint850, astounded at every parent who still has smiling children after all this time. Well done.

A wee while back someone mentioned a black singer and musician to me called Rhiannon Giddens; she has appeared in a television programme called Wayfaring Stranger presented by Phil Cunningham; and she plays a prominent part in a very long but well researched box set on country music with Ken Burns explaining the links between black music and country music……….

She also recently took part in a facebook live performance (thanks Ann) from Carnegie Hall which looked at the roots of much of American music over the years (and that does not do the performance justice).

You may not know the name but you may recognise this song. The title is a phrase from a contemporary slave advertisement that Giddens read but she can better explain that. This is ‘At The Purchaser’s Option’

Never underestimate the strength of a recovering addict; they’ve walked roads you couldn’t imagine.

May 22, 2020

And so, dear listener, the Government has spoken to tell us where and when we can see family and friends (including grandchildren); when children might be able to go to school; and when we might be able to use public transport. Our freedoms have, understandably, been curtailed but there is still a daily death list. People need to be patient and to be aware of others. There is still a long way to go.

I thought the First Minister spoke well the other day (as she has done, cautiously, all the way through the crisis) but that doesn’t mean I can’t have reservations about her, her predecessor and their party after all their years in power.

It’s natural and to be expected. It’s what we expect of an opposition, but we currently don’t have one other than the press. Even the comedians are on her side. Whatever happened to political satire? 😦

The last time we had a decent opposition was when it was the SNP. It’s easier in opposition. I remember (2004?) being an Assistant Producer on a series of BBC programmes from the old Royal High School leading up to the Scottish Elections. I was the Election Unit’s Research Team. Nicola was one of several Scottish politicians put on the spot by an informed audience and she was superb.

But it was her blatant sexism the other day that got me. 😉

Dear Nicola, it is not only women who are missing hairdressers; I am.

I get my haircut every four to five weeks because I do not want to look like an old man who does not get his hair cut. 😦

Another few weeks and they’ll be calling me the Freddie Boswell of St Kentigern’s Cemetery, Maryhill

Just sayin’, that’s all.

(And please don’t work Erik the Floodstalker too hard. He’s a PT fan. It’s been a difficult enough year even without the Corona boy.) 😉

Moving on.

I thoroughly enjoyed the Eurovision Night the other night (well when else?) and it was superb background against which to do nothing (again) but did I miss a re-run of the lady Polish butter churners of a wee while back?

This is the Icelandic entry and I thought it was superb. Eurovision for the Tik Tok generation. 🙂

And a big thanks to Missie K who seems to have persuaded me, some friends and several thousand others to buy some clothes from this charity. 😀 And in doing so we help a lot of workers in Bangla Desh. 🙂

https://loststock.co/

It would appear that I have agreed to buy at least three tops in dark colours with no patterns, of medium size and I lied about my age. I have no idea what I’m getting and when it will arrive. It sounds to me a wee bit like how some people have described supermarket deliveries. The ASDA down the road is still good enough for me.

Once I find out what’s in my ‘man box’ I will describe it to you in great detail. 😀 😀 😀

And I’m afraid I killed off some herb plants I had growing in the porch – but not in the fiesta. They were all doing well but I’m afraid that next to the water sprayer that I used for them was an anti-bac spray that I use for the letter box and the door handles. I don’t really need to go any further do I?

And finally, I think my editing empire has reached the end of the road – at least for the very foreseeable future. Currently I have some PhD chapters to come in and maybe some conclusions from social work students but, after that, nothing.

There’s usually post grad dissertations around about now so I may still get a shout there but my big earner of the year is not happening. Glasgow University hosts an annual Adam Smith Business School for students from all over the world and that is a really big earner. For about four-five weeks in July and August it’s wall to wall editing and I, and the others, do not get much of a chance to leave the house (hahahahahahaha) so maybe it’s no bad thing it’s not happening and I will get to see friends, family and hairdressers instead.

The jury is out on the next academic year but as most of my work comes from recommendations (especially from the Chinese community) if they ain’t here to discuss things over a cup of coffee in the Hub, then I have no chance. How much will the unies go over to online lecturing which takes away so much of the university experience? Still, mustn’t grumble. As Dominic Cummings said when he and his family finally reached Durham. Again.

Tioraidh, still keeping it fun and simple and still washing my hands – are you?

Iaint850, who hopes to hell and back that the idiots don’t spoil it for the rest of us.

So I’d a very pleasant online chat with the rainforestriverman the other day. Coincidentally, it took place on the 180th anniversary of the birth of Brother Walfrid which was also the day that Celtic won/were awarded the League title. 🙂

He very kindly passed on some podcasts and listening to them and some from the Scottish Drugs Forum has been very therapeutic*.

(*And the suggestion for this Month’s Word of the Week came from Kenny the Shed Pimp)

One of the podcasts was about the false imprisonment (twice) of a man called Rubin Hurricane Carter and it was really well told but it’s story I already knew (from 1975) from a time when Bob Dylan (19 today) wrote short, pithy and straight to the point songs.

Enjoy

Be Aware (Skippy came up with that one and I think it makes much more sense)

May 15, 2020

And so, dear listener, I am going to attempt to do this without talking about ‘the corona boy’ as Kenny the Shed Pimp refers to him. I suspect, therefore, it will be a lot shorter than usual but I want to avoid some of the things I’ve been talking about in the last few weeks cos I get depressed. 😦

Such as last Sunday when Boris’s speech, and Nicola’s reaction, really plunged me into the valley of despair but, coincidentally, an hour later and totally separately Son Brian sent me some pics of him and KT and the grandkids and I was all smiles again. 🙂 🙂

And, no, these pics don’t get shared on social media. They marked the X box for no publicity.

So let’s start with the carrot and coriander soup. I don’t bake but for many years I have made soup. Carrot and coriander with lentils and a veggie stock. Shouldn’t have been a problem. 😉

All the ingredients from the ASDA fresh that morning, cook them up in a stock pot, let them cool and put it all through a blender. Done that many, many times. But then I noticed some lumps and thought I’ll let it work its way through a sieve.

When attempting to do this, please always make sure that the handle of the sieve is pointing away from you so that, when you bend down and then back up, you do not knock the sieve and spread its contents over the kitchen floor. 😦

Not just over the floor but the top of the cooker and the worktop and into some drawers of crockery and cutlery and so on. Despite wiping it up and washing the floor there and then, the stickiness and the colour remained for some time (like a couple of days) and it may be a wee while before I return to soup making.

But I take solace from the amazingly trouble free process of buying a Partick Thistle season ticket. As regular listeners will be aware going to Firhill a few years ago became part of my recovery from alcohol and stuff but I’ve not been a regular attender for the last couple of seasons but had planned to go back this Spring. Which we’ve just missed.

But one e-mail and one phone call and it’s all settled and it only needs the ticket office to open and it will be sent out to me. Mentioned it on social media and was delighted when the PT chairperson, Jacqui Low, thanked me in person. 😀

An interesting season beckons. Whenever.

And despite the rumours I keep spreading of the editing coming to an end, there’s still a couple of PhDs and a couple of dissertations to finish off and whilst I am getting no new enquiries, some students may have moved on but still remember me and I’m editing stuff they have written for journals.

And I’m doing a lot of reading. Good friend e dropped off some books but it was done in the same quasi-military manner as when her husband c picked up all those newspapers for Holly the dog – a real newshound.

I have a porch. Okay it’s a fiesta that sits on the drive but the porch is handy. It means I can open the front door, the books get dropped off and the reward of some fresh rhubarb gets picked up. All done at an appropriate distance. Not quite the long walks of yore with a cup of coffee in a dog friendly coffee shop but I’m sure that’s not far away in terms of years.

Sorry. 😦

One of the books is called The Assistant and without giving too much away it is about those friendly listening devices we think we command but what if they start giving out the instructions?

Some times books get to me and this one did. Whilst I do not have one of these listening devices because I believe that’s what they do – listen – there are times when technology gets to me. This was one occasion.

I saw things that might not actually have been there. Why, for example, did my computer tell me that I had arranged an update for 1.36 a.m. when I hadn’t? So, yes, I was awake between 1 and 2 that morning to see what happened. Nothing.

And, yes, that’s been all and it’s not a lot but it does mean I need to stay alert……..Aaaaaargh! I’d almost reached the end without alluding to Covid-19 but I do have one question, if I may. If people in England are allowed to play tennis and golf under certain restrictions, why isn’t there this slogan?

PLAY WITH YOUR OWN BALLS AND NOBODY ELSE’S

Tioraidh 🙂

Iaint850 🙂 I AM NOT MAN

And this week’s piece of music from the cassette collection is by the Robert Cray Band with the very unsexist Nothin’ But a Woman

‘A society grows great when old men plant trees in whose shade they know they will never sit’ … an old Greek proverb quoted by Seamus Mallon (RIP)

January 31, 2020

And so, dear listener, Brexit has been and got done and none of the claims on the side of the bus were true. But that’s Boris Johnson for you. Liam Fox did not do forty trade deals and Liz Truss does not inspire confidence. And the Home Secretary wants to separate immigrants into different types, ignoring the fact that Scotland’s basic needs are not for top class scientists but for hospitality and agricultural workers. But we can have a blue passport, a tea towel and a fifty pence piece without the Oxford Comma.

Oh, and the voices, many from south of the border, who had no idea how they would benefit from Brexit but it was good to be ‘independent again’. 😦

We move on. Without any clue where we’re going. 😦

So I met up during the week with a friend, Colin, who I had not seen for a long time and we had a very pleasant lunch in the Shish Mahal in Park Road and I’m pleased to say that they were only lunch size plates and very tasty. Two memories came back.

One was with Colin and our respective wives (a long time ago!) and we were spending a few days in a small village in Kintyre. We had access to a small boat and Colin and I went to pull it in. Except. It pulled me in. My wellies had no grip and I slipped, on my back, gently and inexorably, into the water. Think the QE2 coming off the slips into the River Clyde. So slowly was it that my life did not flash in front of my eyes but, instead, it was a graceful and slow review of my life up to that point. I even smiled. 🙂

A couple of nights later, Colin and I were out on a fishing boat overnight (pair trawlers) and I overhead one skipper say to his mate on the other boat;

‘You’ll never guess who’s on the boat tonight. Aye, that fella from Glasgow who fell in the water. Aye, I’m keeping a bloody close eye on him!’

And I’m told by Colin, who still goes down to Carradale from time to time, that I am still asked after.

The other memory came from the fact that I had parked my car at the back of the Botanic Gardens (just up from the Ha’penny Bridge) and walked along the banks of the Kelvin, a walk that Holly the Dog and I (and good friend e) have done many a time and it fits into my new health regime and all done with a smile. 😀

I walked back, kidding myself that I was walking off the curry.

I used to do this in my drinking days (but maybe not towards the end). Maybe it was a nice Friday night in the Spring so I’d take a wee walk down to the Maryhill Road, planning to nip into a hostelry, have a couple of pints and wander back up the road. 🙂

Now, such is the camaraderie that alcohol engenders, was there ever a time that I met up with people I did not know, got a wee cargo together and did all my good intentions then go west? Maybe, dear listener, maybe.

And finally, dear listener, I’d like to thank my chums on Facebook for helping me spend the first few pounds of my sister’s inheritance. I asked for advice. I posed a question. I said, ‘Dyson or Shark?’ and I got opinions. The majority said Shark.

Now, I was full of good intentions. I planned to drive to Curry’s and kinda road test the vacuum cleaners. I’d even looked out some vintage Shake’n’Vac for the occasion. But I looked out the window and it was raining.

I switched on the laptop and, yes, selected the rainforestriverbuying option and clicked, and clicked, and clicked. And two days later £169 was deducted from my bank account and I was clicking the liftaway pod into position.

And next, maybe a new camera, but I’ll take advice from Son Brian on that one.

Tioraidh, still wearing the badges and I’m still happy to keep smiling and to keep it simple.

Iaint850, So I tried out my new corded Shark vacuum cleaner this weekend and found £2.12 under the twp settees. 🙂

And I was interested to read that the number of men diagnosed with prostate cancer has increased – ‘diagnosed’ with cancer, not ‘getting’ cancer. It means more men are coming forward but I was interested to read people like Prostate Cancer UK and Prof Karl Sikora ascribing it to the likes of Stephen Fry and Bill Turnbull who have spoken openly about their experiences.

I, however, would pay tribute to the ordinary men (and widows of other men) who do information talks and stands and who also share experiences but often do so in a one-one manner which can have such a major effect.

It’s a long time since I’ve done these (I did a lot of broadcasting about cancer) but I do have memories of ‘manning’ stands and seeing men walk past but their wives coming over to ask questions; or doing a talk somewhere and there was always someone hanging round for ‘a quick word’.

I then went on to study drink’n’drugs and I also hope that, there, I’ve helped people by sharing experiences. It’s not the easiest of things to do. But somebody I don’t know, this week, learned that I was thirteen years ‘sober’ and congratulated me. He then told me he was coming up for fourteen years sober this May. From a distance we metaphorically hugged. That was a good ‘share’.

And here’s The Jesus and Mary Chain. Again. They sure ain’t no Chamber Music outfit, are they?

‘Just noticing patterns we slip into is half the battle. If you are lucky, the rest comes naturally.’ (Darren Loki McGarvey)

January 24, 2020

And so, dear listener, I have lived in the city of Glasgow for over forty years and still find it a fascinating place. 🙂

I don’t get around it as much as I used to but that’s partly because I don’t have that much need so to do. Indeed I’m sure I’ve explained how rarely now I travel to the south side – although I do distinguish between that and ‘through the tunnel’ and some of the travelling these days is done by train as I have that time to myself. 🙂

However, I had a fascinating view of one aspect of Glasgow just the other night – the surprise and joy you can get from staring into a basement flat. Let me explain.

I was meeting the blogmeister in a coffee shop in Byres Road on Monday evening and I was early (‘Now there’s a surprise’ says Skippy) so I parked at Kelvinside Academy and started to walk – through places like Horselethill and Dowanhill and then down a back road to Dumbarton Road and back up Byres Road. Even in that short trip you see the attraction of Glasgow and the tenements but it’s an area where you can see into massive basement rooms in massive basement flats…..curtains and blinds are not always drawn but it was on the way back that I saw something that rang a bell with the wordsmith in me – if I may describe myself as that. 😉

(but first, a very pleasant couple of cups of coffee with the blogmeister and the world was put to rights)

On the way back to my car I looked into one basement and was really intrigued by what I saw. Seated at a large wooden table was a man with long fairish hair and he was reading – not a book but a large manuscript wrapped in some form of book binding which wasn’t normal book binding and not only that he was surrounded, not by bookcases, but by shelves full of more manuscripts wrapped in the same binding.

I stared; trying to work what he was – a warlock, maybe? Somebody with a house full of potions and pills and the recipes for them? And it wouldn’t be the first time that I’d been in a flat like that in Glasgow’s west end. 😉

And he looked up. And he stared. And glared and I made an excuse and left……..embarrassed. (Huntly Gardens if you’re ever in that area)

And I was actually in an old building in Glasgow city centre the other day with something that not only took me back but took me up when I had to go and see my son (professionally – and his profession, not mine)

His firm’s office is on the sixth floor and there was a lift but it was one of those lifts which is actually a cage where you have to open and close the gates before it travels and not only that but the commissionaire did that for me on the way up and came with me…..just to be sure.

Glasgow – a city of surprises. 😀

And finally, if I may, some criticism of Meghan Wales (gulp!)

There was a photograph of her walking through a park with two burly security men behind her (that somebody’s paying for). She was carrying a baby (stunt double?) in a chest papoose which she was steadying with her right hand; her left was holding on to the leads of two very strong looking dogs. Did this worry anyone else? I know that sometimes, when walking my friend, Holly the Dog, I sometimes am pulled away when she sees something she wants to go and investigate.

It’s enough concentrating on one dog with one lead and two hands.

What a shame Meghan doesn’t live near a gran-in-law who knows about dogs.

Tioraidh, still wearing the badges and still keeping it simple (and ever optimistic)

Iaint850, choosing to eat ethically, economically and environmentally friendly.

And so, a wee word about my sister, one year to the day since she passed away. I posted on facebook that I had started to spend the inheritance by buying a Shark corded vacuum cleaner – slightly tongue in cheek but a sign that I felt (with others) that it was a good time to move on.

With the exception of the legal hiccup which saw me having to change solicitor (and I see no need to go back over that story but I found new dead good people in Paisley), every aspect of it has gone well – from the funeral and cremation to the will settlement and all the other things that pop up in a situation like that.

Legally and financially, there’s some things to be tidied up and I still have things to sign but it’s more or less over and we move on. Sheila will not be forgotten but I’m not the sort of person to mark the fact that members of my family have moved on, on an annual basis.

But that doesn’t mean I won’t miss her. Sometimes there are times when I (will) miss picking up the phone just to tell her something………

For example, I have bought tickets for myself and good friend e to go see The Jesus and Mary Chain at the Kelvingrove Bandstand later this year and I’d have been interested in her reaction to that – if I could catch her when she wasn’t at Celtic Connections.

So here are The Jesus and Mary Chain with Happy When It Rains….except we won’t be if it does.