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On Kitchens: we shall remain silent. We are (almost) content. We (I) forgot to retrieve the front-door key from Alan: but that is as much my fault as his. It is done. Let us hear no more.

To: Mrs Haveyouhadherdoneyet & Mr Mywifewouldloveyou: greetings from Lily. Despite appearances, she is an extremely dangerous attack-dog who will have your hand off and bury it under the nettles as soon as look at you. This was your last warning.

Demob-happy

An enforced, slightly convoluted trip to work gives me a doubledeckerview of a premises named "Bierodrome". A more enticing name I cannot conceive: The Boggins Temperance League review team will undoubtedly be in your area before long.

We are instituting a Word Of The Week herewith: GALLIMAUFRY. Only because, however, the even-better word in my head yesterday has escaped. For those of you who are Shamed By Their Mistakes In English, I should point out that "gallimaufry" is a tiny Joel-sized penguin found in the vicinity of Ushuaia. Oh yes.

Only me.

Whereas I have nothing to say, here I am not saying it.


I am tempted into a post regarding a certain nameless kitchen company, but I shall hold fire until Friday: in the event of continued dissatisfaction there will be an annotated list of misdemeanours and shortcomings to warn, enlighten & delight you. Elsewise, we are Ryanairing to Ireland on Sunday, for a week; there will be photos. You lucky people.

Who is this man?

Boggins & Bob Dylan

Boggins has always had a bit of a blind spot for Bob Dylan. I've known & loved lots of his songs - who hasn't? - covered by various artists (I bought Hendrix's version of "All Along The Watchtower" with pocket-money), but I've never really "got" Bob. I remember going to cousin Graham's house when a mere youngster, and being told of the Greatness of Bob: on the same day however I was told by the same person of the coming greatness of Nottingham Forest, and never truly believed in either; this pre-dated Forest's Cloughie-led glory days.
Then I was bought a Dylan compilation for my birthday. I've even rescued my dust-encrusted CD Walkman from the dust-encrusted drawer so I can keep listening. It's been a revelation - such lyrics, such tunes - I obviously haven't been paying attention all my life. Even a hoary old number you'd think you had by heart, like "Mr Tambourine Man" has been revealed anew, as if I'd never heard it before.
After 45 years in the trade he just got a new source of income...

Old Now.

It's been and gone.

There will be some photos but I need to think about some privacy issues first.

e.g.

CATH - £100 in untraceable notes by Wednesday means I won't publish that photo of you. £200 gets it off my hard drive for good. :-)

ETHAN - send all your pocket money or you're on the Internet.

I'll remember Saturday. I hope I thanked people properly in person for what they did: I was truly touched by your gifts and your affection.

Thanks are due to:

The Bushey crowd for "Boggins' Thoughtful Spot". Mainly I'll be thinking "what lovely people". Blub.

"Unky Al" for poo-patrol and inflation.

Bradshaw. For the 2nd year running you didn't get me a new bra. Sort it out. Also: Happy Birthday.

Jackie next door for quiche and not minding getting wet.

Barbara. Big Gold Star. So much; too much to list.

Ali for getting all that family tree material organised. Could you tell I was a bit stunned?

Venus Williams & Lindsay Davenport for distracting my guests with a 3-set classic instead of the usual 6-2 6-0. Kept the booze consumption down for a bit.

Sir Bob Geldof for arranging his stupid little knees-up for the same day. Frankly, it was in my OUTLOOK first. Cheers. Just check next time, OK?

G & J for good thoughts.

Everyone else who helped. Or just came. Or who would have come if they could have.

Above all, the Best Girl In The World. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I'll probably think of other people the second I upload this. Thanks to all.