Boxing Day 2018

 Well, we didn't win the £98million on the Euromillions last night, so I can't lend a helping hand to all the worthy projects and charities I'd like to support more effectively, including my writing career- which, at the moment seems to have ground to a halt. It's been a year since I added anything to my current project, or even completed a rhyme for my second volume of silly poetry. My mental energy appears to have gone off for a round-the-world tour, with no indication of when it will come back. I might have to let its room out, at this rate.
 Since my last blog ( April, I see!) we have lost Meg the wonder-dog. She fell short of her sixteenth birthday by 3 months, and went peacefully, a victim of kidney failure which, my vet told me, was not painful, but causes the patient to feel incredibly tired all the time. We had a lovely last day with her before, with the vet's help, we let her slip away.
 A few weeks later, a message landed on my Facebook page, asking someone to give a currently fostered dog a home, and as a result... we have Mia, a lovely German Shepherd/ Collie cross. She's as mad as a box of ferrets and is worried about my son (aren't we all?)- we think it's his dress sense that disturbs her, but it's early days yet. Lycra, after all, isn't for everyone, and on my 19 year-old, it is a bit scary.
 This time last year, I was in A&E following a suspected "coronary event". One of those Christmases one tends to remember, I think you'll agree. Anyway, to update matters, it took them until about June to confirm I haven't got a heart condition and the event was, as was my initial reaction, extreme heartburn. However, the plus side is, I eat healthier now; I've taken it as a warning, a shot across the bows, and I find I quite like dates and raw peppers- no, really, I do, even in the same container.
 So, there we go. I'll  try and stop by again for New Year, if not before, and perhaps I'll get round to replacing that Potty Poetry, Please . Don't, however, hold your breath.