Greetings reader.

It's been fun over the last couple of weeks, and a little hectic - which is good. It's taken my mind off the weird throat thing, which has meant it's troubled me much less. It hasn't gone away, but I've adopted a Clair Weekes view and decided that que sera, sera. So what if I feel like my throat is swollen from the inside? It won't kill me, and apart from being deeply annoying, there's very little over which to concern myself. This attitude definitely helps. Mind over matter, that's what I say.

I started massaging properly yesterday, with my first proper client. It went very well, and I was able to relieve her symptoms quite considerably. Of course, I then ruined my professional, organised image by leaving my watch and jewellery behind and having to creep back and retrieve them.

I then went to my psycho/osteopath and he caused me considerable pain. My back has been troubling me since our 9 hour drive to London and back, but I'm afraid, in the end, I know the answer to my distress. My posture is lordotic, and therefore puts undue strain on muscles that shouldn't be called upon to support my structure. And why am I lordotic? Cos I is a biffa. If I lose weight then my posture will improve and my back pain will subside - so yet more incentive to stop eating like a hippo.

Unfortunately, although I've tried quite valiantly, of late circumstances have conspired against me. First there was Fisher's birthday, where we went to Abstract in Edinburgh for supper. It was a very delightful, convivial evening - but it lasted 4 1/2 hours, as the food was so appallingly slow. I have written them an email of complaint, in a fusty and matronly manner, and wait to hear from them with interest. Food wise, everything I had was extremely good, but because it took so long it was quite difficult to fill up - so I ended up having cheese at the end, when I'd vowed not to have a 3rd course.

Next up was a trip down to London for the memorial service of my uncle. It was a beautiful service, with some of my favourite pieces of music (Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring, a bit of The Creation, and ... something else lovely I can't recall) sung stunningly well by the choir of St Bartholomew's. St Bartholomew's is just a gorgous church, seen in Four Weddings & A Funeral (the one Charles is supposed to get married in), and our family has a long history with it. My parents were married there, my grandmother had her memorial service there, my brother was married there ... and I think the connection extends further than that, but I'm not certain. Anyway, the church was full, which showed just how popular was my Uncle Trewsers. My mother read the poem Abou Ben Adhem, because it really suits Trewsers. For those who don't know it, Abou Ben Adhem awakes and sees an angel writing in a book. On asking what the angel is writing, the angel tells him it's "the names of those who love the Lord." "And is mine one?" Abou asks, and is told categorically that it is not. So:

Abou spoke more low
But cheerily still and said
"I pray thee then
Write me as one that loves his fellow-men."

The angel duly does so, and when he appears again on the next night, he shows Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase) all "the names of whom love of God had blessed":

And lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest.

Uncle T really was a man who loved people - just like his mother. He was incredibly social, loved being around his friends, always remembered you after meeting you once - and remembered the names of your brothers, sisters, dogs (definitely dogs) and asked after them. He loved food - the more exotic the better - and took delight in ordering such things as brains and challenging you to eat them. And such was his personality that you never wanted to appear small in his eyes, so you'd end up eating lamb's parietal lobe stuffed with the bollocks of an aardvark, or something.

He was also a world citizen - again, much like his mother. He spoke 5 languages and made his primary home in Singapore, that cultural melting pot. He did business in South America before anyone else, and embraced difference with gusto. He held Britain up to an old fashioned ideal and was therefore constantly disappointed with his homeland. Had he moved to the north of England, or even to Scotland, he might have felt happier, as these are the last bastions of true Britishness.

Still, maybe not Scotland, as his downfall came in the form of good Scotch ... or bad Scotch, for that matter. Anyway, he drank himself into the grave, leaving a great many people both sad and angry. But I remember him as jovial, hospitable, and full of fun.

We stayed with Brother and Gaura in Westminster, which is quite my favourite part of London. There's nothing to really do there, but it's so beautiful - and astonishingly quiet on the weekends. After the memorial we had supper at the Royal Garden Hotel, in the Chinese restaurant. It was a long banquet which, while delicious, left me sadly hungry only a few hours later - as well as pretty dang pissed. So Brother, Fisher and I headed into Soho and wound up at another Chinese eating Dou Miao and sundry other dishes at 2am. Cracking stuff.

It was great to catch up with the extended family, but we were glad to be home on Friday - especially as the Cheese Board were coming up, sans menfolk, for the weekend. We had a pleasant time of it, although I was disappointed to be told on their arrival, that Blar and Koi couldn't stay for Sunday. I like to be told these things in advance, so my brain doesn't run away with potential plans only to have them scuppered. There's quite a difference between people coming up for the weekend and coming up for Saturday, then leaving at noon on Sunday. It sort of dismisses all of Sunday for activities, leaving only Saturday and just making me feel a bit rushed. It's not really a big deal, but I like to know what time I have. It's also a bit of a downer when you're told almost the instant people arrive; it suggests people are already thinking about leaving and would secretly rather be at home. I got that impression from Koi throughout, actually, and don't think she's in a very happy place right now. I shall have to think of ways to improve her lot - like providing entertainment to the best of my abilities.

Until next time.