Post 395. NEVER GIVE UP.

WHATEVER ELSE.

TODAY IS FATHER'S DAY.
Or, as my realistically-minded children might describe it: another commercially contrived celebration day invented by the Americans.
Jac and Mike arrived yesterday with a dad's day dinner: 'lamb shanks with roasted vegetables and all the trimmings.' A lovely gift.
And I am writing with Jac's further present, the Freddie De Tommaso CD Passione, playing in the background. Nice disc, but his producers should have excluded Cara Mia from the line-up: if you are not going to finish on the David Whitfield top note, don't do it.
A week or so ago Neil gave me a self-winding (for an active tennis player which, of course, I am not) watch. It stopped in a few days and, despite his careful instructions when he gave it to me, neither Mo nor I can restart it. It has a great name, though, and looks nice. He'll start it again when next he is here. Meantime, I smile every time I look at it: it is the ideal unfather's day bonus and will be cherished right up until I kick the bucket.
THAT'S ABOUT ALL FOR NOW.

Ellis stayed overnight at his father's home to be there for today: he'll be back here later on. Glad to say he continues to confidently walk the bass guitar road, to the approval of the music master of his former school.
Jess's little house is starting to look great, We have seen it, and her recently acquired kitten, now. The kitten was given the name Atlas before it was discovered to be a girl.
In this family some oversights just keep repeating: remember the girl named Spike and the boy called Angel? They've never seemed to be bothered.
Anyway, this is Atlas.

Cute or what?