Hello, my name is Des and I am a blogger!!
Lilly's guest blogger.
I am Lilly’s father; the one she told you is donating his pride and joy, his hair, to his loved ones (or at least the ones who need help in that area). I am growing it now so there's more to go round. It’s good to give back and if I had any more body parts that worked, I would happily donate them too. Unfortunately, I don't have any that do.
Lilly tells me I’ve finally arrived. It’s nice to be here. In fact, at 81 it’s nice to be anywhere.
I only discovered what a blog was a week or so ago. We never stop learning and the older you get the better it is to discover new things. At least that’s what I keep telling her. Personally, I still have time on my side.
Even though I'm ancient I still think I'm incredibly handsome. I'm also nearly blind so that may explain a few things. I believe our eyesight starts to fail the older we get for a reason. I think it's God's way of being kind to us as we age. He knows we still have to look in the mirror on the odd occasion and any nasty shocks could be detrimental to our health.
Fortunately, I am still in my first marriage. I guess it’s wrong to talk about my marriage as if it's a temporary arrangement but I think it’s wise to never take anything for granted. My current wife hates it when I talk like that. Being deaf helps me deal with her concerns in a polite, yet interested way.
I appreciate and love my wife a great deal though. She’s the talent in the family. She’s made it easy for me in many, many ways. For instance, we got married on her birthday. So every year I give her flowers and a present (I never missed even when in hospital - I didn’t want to risk a further injury). I can proudly boast that I’ve never forgotten our anniversary in 50 years.
Lilly has always been on the unusual creative side. She's No 3 of my five children. You know what they say about middle children. I guess I could tell many, many stories to embarrass her but after she read some of her blog to me I notice she does a fine job of that herself.
Has she told you the story about the time she got her hair cut by a la-de-da French hairdresser? She sobbed over that haircut for the next ten years. Never mention the words French or hairdresser to her in the one sentence, ever, because the waterworks will start all over again. Decades later. Or, did she tell you about the amount of time she spent as a teenager trying to make a simple sponge cake? Being the good parent I was, I encouraged her to live her dreams. A few months and two hundred failed, rock hard sponge cakes later, I was left with a very attractive path in my garden. As luck would have it, once she finally perfected the sponge she never made another one ever again. I better stop there though because she owns this blog and I shouldn’t really bite the hand that feeds me.
I don’t sing or dance anymore. Or bunjee jump. I do a little gardening. I watch sports. I listen to politics. I drink a Scotch whisky every day. And I like to talk. Strangely, my family encourage more drinking than talking. I eat five meals a day but still cannot put on weight. My boyhood dream was to be an astronaut. Sadly, while I now can finally make the weight restrictions, I seemingly don't make the age restrictions. C’est la vie.
Life is full of swings and roundabouts. By the time you get to 81 you’ve learned a lot. The hardest thing is trying to remember it all. I keep my brain busy. I think the most important thing I've learnt is that there is no point in worrying about anything. Most things you worry about never materialise anyway. Happiness for me has come from having a close knit loving family (even if at times you wish you lived in a different city), great friends and being involved in the community.
In my next post (if Lilly lets me back some time) I would like to tell you about the six essentials of life that my father taught me when I was a boy. If you think Blanche’s advice is behind the times, wait till you hear what my father said to me. Maybe some of that old advice is just what we need in these uncertain times (although I can tell you a whisky a day doesn't hurt much either).
Supposedly a good blog should have a good ending and beginning and nothing much in between (are you reading Lilly?), so I will leave it at that for now.
PS: Barbara, I have given careful consideration to your adoption request. Four daughters such as mine (think about it, that's Lilly x 4) would normally be quite enough but I have been looking at your blog and I see you are self sufficient, a fine cook, knit wonderful jumpers and are extremely witty. Given I already have one daughter who lives in the UK I don’t think one more would be too burdensome. As long as you never mention the medal haul the British took at this years' Olympics, things will be fine. I look forward to hearing whether this will be agreeable to you.