Post 428. AND STILL AT HOME.

OUR GRANDSON.

ELLIS WAS SEVENTEEN.
This month the young man (seen above in the only picture I have of him) celebrated his seventeenth birthday and a week later, with Platform One mates in a Beatles tribute group (he was Paul McCartney), did a highly successful gig at Strings Bar and Venue, Isle of Wight. He was 'bricking it' before he got there and jubilant when it was over. His mum would have been so proud of him. We certainly are. It might be a long and winding road, but he's going to make it.
SWEARING.
In our dotage we are swearing too much, Mo and I. It's official. Our children have remarked on it.

My initial reaction was: What? Us? Surely not...
It was swiftly followed by: Come to think of it, I do use more bad language now than I ever did back in my army days. I seldom swore then...
The upshot was our firm resolve, Mo and I, that the language of the twenty first century in-crowd, and of most American TV dramas, was not for us. Neither of us is a  modern stand-up comedian, either, so we do not have to eff and blind to impress people with our worldliness.
It has been very serene around here since we took the pledge.
ALL IT NEEDS NOW.

IS ALED JONES and a eff'n choir.
Sorry, Mo.
Sorry, kids.
Sorry, Aled.
Sorry, vicar.