I almost didn’t come back from the States where we spent Christmas with my brother and his family. SuBo has nothing on me. The evening we arrived, barely having had time for a cup of tea at my brothers house in Darien, we were whisked off to a drinks and carol singing party at some friends of theirs. I was well and truly stitched up by my brother who had turned down the role of Casper, one of the three Kings, on the grounds that he was already committed to playing the bagpipes, but had very cheekily offered my services. Funny boy. So up came our host, with a carol sheet in his hand and I was pressed into service to sing the solo verse about frankincense and incense in We Three Kings of Orient Are in front of 50 or 60 complete strangers. My face must have been a picture when I was handed this role, but was nothing compared to Hen’s who was mortified by my performance. Personally I thought it went rather well but that could have been the combination of jet-lag and beer.
And what of Hen these days. This is the kiss of death of course but things are going quite smoothly. She has been offered a place at Leeds which we have been told by the school is most likely an administrative error on the part of the University (I’m not kidding you) and by friends that it is the party capital of the UK. Not surprisingly therefore she has grabbed it with both hands and has gone back to school intent on securing the required A level grades of two B’s and a C. Her focus and concentration will undoubtedly be helped by the fact that the boyfriend has gone to Burma and that his mobile phone was confiscated as he entered the country. Well that’s what he told Hen, but anyway marvellous news.
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