“Treat ’em mean, keep ’em keen”, as the saying goes.

That reminds me (and I’m keen to tell you)…. I’ve been meaning to explain why I haven’t written any new blog posts for such a long time. No, I’m not bored – oh how wonderful it would be to have time to be bored! There you have it, I’ve been so busy in the last three months or more that I simply haven’t had time to sit down and write, except for when I felt impelled to tell you in my last post about the funny experience I had on my mum’s hospital ward.

Since then our super mum has been back in her home for nearly a week, off for another week in Torbay Hospital following a bleed between her skull and brain, then back in our local Dawlish Hospital for recuperation, where she is currently awaiting discharge. Poor Mum! She is getting better but it’s terrible being confined when you’re used to being active and something of a gadabout, even when you are a lady of ninety-six. Doesn’t she look sweet in the photos below?

So, on to what happened one day last week… Everyone was at the house of my sister Mary. Our Aussie nieces were down in Devon for a visit before going off travelling then heading off back to Australia and Mary had invited them (and Chris and I) for a goodbye dinner. Nearly all of Mary’s large family were there when Chris and I turned up.

As we walked into the lounge room my sister’s lovely son-in-law Martin stood up to greet us.

“You look very trim and muscular!” I said approvingly.

Martin patted his flat stomach.

“I suppose I have lost a bit of weight,” he smiled modestly.

“He goes to the gym a lot,” said one of his little girls.

“No, it’s me,” began his wife Liz (my niece who was born on my nineteenth birthday!), “you know what they say, Sally – treat ’em mean, keep ’em lean!”