31 May 2016, Oporto.

The itinerary has been changed. Tomorrow instead of Vigo we dock in Porto. Have been to Vigo many times,to Porto once only. I wish it was the other way round. As Oporto is enchanting,Vigo is charmless . When Euro money was free flowing like the cheap Spanish wine,it was being pumped into Spain,massive buildings were springing up in Vigo like mushrooms,then the banks went to the dogs and with them the cash,and the unfinished structures now a blot on the horizon,rotting away like the European union. Apparently the dockers in Oporto plan to strike the day we are supposed to be there. Portuguese economy is on the brink of collapse, If it wasn't for the EU money propping it up it would have been in the same sorry state Greece is in, and the dockers go on strike. Where is the sense in that? Why is it that people think prosperous countries like GB owe them a living? Why do I have to support foreign scroungers and layabouts unable to balance their books and live within their means? [I support enough of those with my taxes in GB]. Stop having three hour siestas,work hard as I have to work,pay your way. I, and people like myself, owe you nothing. But no country does a strike better than France. The French have it down to fine art. And if they do not stop striking left right and every which way, they will soon bring their country to its knees and it will be handing out the begging bowl to help them out of the mire they so recklessly got themselves into. Despicable. Italy,the country I so like, is limbering somewhere in a twilight zone and if the Italians do not stop living the bohemian life with their couldn't care less attitude,they will soon verge on the ascent to hell. And, as always,it will be the ordinary people,who will suffer the most. OPORTO. The shuttle drop off point was about 10 minute walk from the Hotel Intercontinental. What is wrong with that,you may ask. Nothing if you haven't been for three years looking forward to sitting in a lovely restaurant you dream about when any food is mentioned-the pastries straight from the oven,a schnitzel sandwich out of this world,coffee being served the American way - on tap. So the drop off point was a great disappointment, unfortunately it was just next to a parked hop on hop off bus ready to begin a 2 hour sightseeing tour of the city. Devil only may know what possessed me to climb in,but climb in I did, paid the 10 Euros and the most unpleasant ride of my life had begun. It was so cold and absolutely freezing in every part of the bus, the biting wind did not make the experience any nicer. Even one hour under the circumstances was too long, but 2, an absolute torture. At the end of the misery ride found a coffee shop with morose unsmiling staff,but the coffee was good,Portuguese tart excellent and when I was almost ready to leave, a tray of sandwiches was brought in. My heart jumped with joy - rolls filled with turkey and pork schnitzels! Had the turkey first,it was good,not super duper good, but good. Had the pork next. It was also good,not duper duper good,but good. Feeling that things could only get better, went to look around the shops,nothing I loved was in my size,except Liu-Jo multicoloured pleated culottes,172 Euros, a lot, I know,but they are lovely,they will be in and out of fashion for the next 30 years[and I do intend to live that long] I reckon, and I expect to get my money's worth. The shuttle back to the ship and to a glorious afternoon sunbathing,then the gym and dinner.

30/05/2016, The Queen Victoria, Britannia restaurant,table 302,2nd sitting.

On Cunard ships the seating dinner arrangements are divided into two-the early first seating between 6-6.30 and the late second seating between 8.30-9. I prefer to eat late,then I do not have to rush to get ready after a day of sight-seeing, walking,shopping,sun-bathing and whatever else may be on the agenda. To be ready in all my finery,showered,hair washed,etc for the first sitting,I would need to begin not later than 5.30 and that for me is far too early. I also like going to the gym at 6 or so when it is almost empty. The dinner was a splendid affair. Prawn salad [as fresh as if harvested the same morning], sirloin steak,rare,I love it bloody. I sometimes say jokingly,that if it was a chicken it would still go kikiriki. Linzer cake,cranberry tea to finish. Perfection. Fell asleep at 10,woke up at 2.30,flicked though the TV channels,Mad Max I think it was, in German,I reckon about half way though. I could see why it got an Oscar for special effects [if it was Mad Max,that is]. The film took care of over an hour,then quick shower and out I went on the lower floor to walk on the walkway around the ship. But it was so cold, after a few minutes went back to bed and more TV and kind of fell asleep still being aware of all the activity outside. At 10 rushed up to Lido,the self-service restaurant on the 9th floor,where the spread is always magnificent,for some porridge,green tea and lemon water. And before I turned round it was time for lunch. Mackerel mousse,delicious, tomato soup,even better,baked stuffed aubergine,utterly lovely,do not recall ever having a stuffed aubergine in a restaurant. I do cook them myself, but I just gently fry thinnish slices in some olive oil and then squeeze over lemon juice.Spotted dick with custard and cappuccino to finish. What more can a girl want? Outside too cold and windy to sunbathe,so went to the Royal theatre to watch a film called CREED with Sly Stallone. Walked out after 10 minutes.It was about boxing and I do not like to see men bashing their brains out. There is so much money in this ugly sport. Just look at the best and even the mediocre boxers how they end up brain damaged. How can this be justified?

The Queen Victoria, Sunday, 29 May 2016.

Why oh why do the taxi drivers so like talking to me? The moment I hailed a black cab I could see the face behind the wheel light up. This is the customer I have been waiting for, it said. Questions and more questions. You look very familiar to me.I know I have seen you in magazines. And on TV,yes? Yes, I lied. I so dislike the intrusion and never tell any questioning strangers the truth about myself. Waterloo station couldn't come fast enough. The train journey passed in a flash,an Upper Crust tuna sandwich never disappoints. And before I said how I would like a raisin twirly wirly from Pret-a-manger,I was sitting in a taxi taking me to the ship. What have I done to deserve this,I was thinking, as the driver started to talk and never stopped,not for a moment, until I handed him the £10 he asked for. Was he talking incessantly so that I will not notice and not object to the amount he charged for the short ride? Never have I paid more than £8 even for a longer journey. Did I pay without a protest? Yes. I was going on a wonderful cruise he may never be able to afford,not unless some lottery money comes his way,and it was a Sunday,not a day this amount warrants an argument. The priority check-in line was short and the security line even shorter and before I knew it I was in a cabin 4063. Obstructed view. And you know, it is not that bad at all. I have natural light and through the hanging lifeboats I can see the sea. Cannot sunbathe in the nude on the balcony,that's true,but it is a small price to pay for being able to be on this very popular cruise. There was a card in the cabin waiting informing me that the number of my table to dine at in the evening was 302. Went to check the size of the table. It was just for two. Just for me. Nothing could spoil the seven nights now. Nothing.

26/05/2016, My sister is blessed

with two loving sons and three grandchildren,all boys, The latest is  a one year old today. When her first grandchild came in June ten years ago,the spitting image of his father and grandfather, the joy was immeasurable. Like all new parents,these also thought they were omnipotent and irreplaceable. My sister knew better,so when the New Year's celebrations came, she suggested they both go and have some fun and she and her husband would take care of the baby. Her son was horrified - mum, you are too old,you do not have the reflexes any longer,what if he falls and you won't be quick enough to catch him! It took great strength for her to keep her temper,as my sister told me when she phoned the moment the young family closed the door behind them. Can you imagine,I do not have quick reflexes! I laughed and laughed. Just wait,the day will come and sooner than you think,when they will be begging you to take Matt off their hands for a day and that day will be their best early Christmas present ever! How right I was! I have the most adorable photo of the toddler with a rucksack on his tiny back waiting by the door to spend his first whole day with the grandparents. The parents had the most needed break and the grandparents had a day full of fun. The problem was,that Matt so loved spending time with my sister and her husband, that every day he would pick up his little rucksack and stand by the door! I cannot imagine how the daughter-in-law would manage without the constant help my sister provides,even though she herself has a very important,demanding [but not very well paid ] job, press conferences are on the weekly agenda,regular meetings with the Prime Minister and various other government officials...

25/05/2016, HELP!

My friend's son has been offered a much coveted ticket to watch Germany play football on 12 June. In all the excitement he forgot he is getting married that day. Now he is desperate to find someone,any-one, who would take his place at the altar!

The recipe for the easiest, the quickest yet oh so tasty soup:

Red split lentils,spring onions,parsley,a bag of prepared mixed vegetables,pepper-corns,stock mix or cubes,olive oil. I buy all vegetable from Marks and use chicken or vegetable stock by TELMA. Wash a cup-full of the lentils,cover with about 4 pints of water,bring to the boil,while this is happening, throw in some pepper-corns, I use whole, 10-15,if you like the taste,I do,I love the sensation of biting into them, less or none if you don't. Cut into small pieces 3-4 sprigs of onions and place into the pot together with some washed parsley,chopped or not,and scatter in a tablespoon of the stock mix. Gently simmer for 10 minutes.,then empty into the pot the bag-full of vegetables and continue boiling the vegetables according to instructions or your taste. I always cook for a minute less,I dislike anything over-done. And the soup is ready. If I remember I stir in a teaspoon of virgin olive oil and for fire you can add dry chillies. Before long a plateful is gone. If there are ever any left-overs,the birds love them. If you have time and would like to add some protein into the soup,then organic breast fillets of chicken would do nicely. Wash,cut into small pieces,cover with water,boil for 15 minutes,then follow the above process. As I write I have polished off a plate-full of this delicious brew. There won't be any going to the birds today. Aah,I spoil them so much as it is. Just one thing- never use too much stock mix at the beginning,it is best to scatter in half a spoon at first,then taste the soup and add more if you think it is necessary. Chicken soup mix by Telma is my favourite, it is so easy to use,dissolves instantly and is cooked in a minute or two. Even a not much of a cook like myself can't go wrong with this.

24/05/2016, On 26 May the latest addition to our family will be one year old.

The addition is a boy called Boris. Like his father,my nephew. And his grandfather. My sister fell in love with Boris, the kindest,nicest man any-one could wish for a brother-in-law. Over the years he has become more like a brother to me. When their first born came,they named him Boris. Like father,like son,an apple doesn't fall far from the tree, the spitting image,you look at them and know they are two peas of the same pod, and when you observe them closely you see an unbreakable bond. When Boris,my nephew,was growing up, he was teased at school about his name. The children called him Boris Godunov. What's wrong with being compared to this excellent hero from Modest Mussorgsky's masterpiece opera of the same name? Nothing if you are an adult. Everything if you are a child. For no-one can be more cruel to a young boy than his peers. One day Boris,my nephew,came home from school and said to his mother- mum,why,of all the names in the whole wide world to choose from,you gave me the name Boris. How am I going to get out of this,thinks my sister.Have I scarred my first born for life? Ask your father,she replies,as she had done so many times before when awkward questions came from the children-you know the ones - mum,where do the babies come from? Why ask me? - says he. I never have any say in anything anyway. And your mum always says she knows best. Well, sweetheart,she says,having gathered her thoughts,it is your father's name. But not my grand-father's, the boy cannot comprehend the logic. Years went by, he had to grin and bear for a long time,then he changed schools, became an adult. And out of the blue the name Boris Johnson hit the news. Now you see why I gave you the name Boris. If it is good-enough for the Mayor of London,it is good-enough for you,my sister said. All grown up,Boris junior knew better than to challenge his mother's reasoning. My nephew's wife had her own ideas about how to name the baby. She asked all and sundry for suggestions. I myself put in my tuppence worth -keep it as a middle name. But she is a sensible girl. The much awaited and longed for child was 8 years in the making. There were moments when they thought they would never know the joy of parenthood. And once its little head popped out and she saw the face of her husband, it had to be another Boris.

24/05/2016, THE ORDER OF THE TROUGH.

Mr Sajid Javid after months of saying yey to leaving the EU is now saying ney. I grant this great man in the making THE ORDER OF THE TROUGH. Once a politician gets to the trough and smells the money he swings. And in his case in more ways than one.

22/05/2016, The squirrels have come to dinner.

I was busy weeding when my eye caught sight of a massive grey wiggling tail by the feeding bowl on the opposite side of the garden. It was a mama squirrel or a papa squirrel. Or could one of the babies have grown so big already? A little further away a large bird I have seen in my garden many times before,waiting its turn. How does it feel being pipped to the post? A four member squirrel family had a home in my garden until about a year ago, then the builders next door scared them away. They found a new home in one of the near-by gardens, now and then popping round to mine  for a feast. I hope to have the whole family back safe and sound once the builders have finished by the end of August, well, that is what the owner expects,but I have my doubts. As I filled four large bags with weeds and leaves a tiny bird with red belly was flittering about, often at arm's length, showing no fear. Could it be my old friend I have not seen for months and months?

22/05/2016, FRANK GARDNER

The BBC's security corespondent, was gunned down and his cameraman Simon Cumbers killed by a gang of terrorists in Saudi Arabia twelve years ago. After a year in hospital he has been reporting from around the world in a wheel-chair. I will never forgive the man who shot and paralysed me, Mr Gardner says. Often I hear people professing to forgive the killer of their daughter,or a son, or a mother,or a father. I could never understand how can any human being forgive someone for murdering their loved one.To me it is like condoning what the killer had done. I myself could never forgive. Mr Gardner is a very brave man. He has written a book called "CRISIS " published on June 2,price £12.99.

21/05/2016, Planet Cruise,

is a travel company specializing in cruises.Several years ago just as Iglu,another travel firm, was taking over Planet Cruise,I booked a Christmas cruise with them. For personal reasons I cancelled the cruise at least two months before departure. P & O, the owner of that particular ship, behaved admirably, agreeing to transfer the £1,300 or so deposit I had paid, to another cruise.I phoned Planet Cruise and they said they would re-book when I had decided where to go, and transfer the money. When I phoned them back to actually book a new cruise, they denied they had ever made any such promise. I wrote to the chairman of Iglu.To date no response. P & O said as the P C were the deposit takers, any new bookings must be made through them.I lost a large amount of money. I would never ever touch Iglu or Planet Cruise with a barge pole now Utterly unprincipled. Why didn't I claim the loss of £1,300 through the insurance company? I did not think it was an honourable thing to do,as my reason for cancelling was private.

20/05/2016, The birds and I.

The nicest thing about working in the garden are the little birds toddling about with me.There was a tiny red-bellied one,it got so accustomed to me, often pottering almost by my feet,I would throw it fat juicy worms. Bird brain? This little mite had its thinking cap firmly on. It knew the food was where I was. My friend stayed with me for two months last spring and she said she had never seen anything like it - any bird so close to a human. She herself has a beautifully kept garden, both herself and her husband spend hours and hours keeping it the nicest patch on the allotment. I love eggs for breakfast,mostly boiled,sometimes scrambled. Any guests who stay at my house say no-one makes a better scrambled egg than I do. And for my guests I often serve it with streaky bacon. Usually what I eat, the birds eat,except, of course, the meat. They do love smoked mackerel,of all things,it disappears before I say Mrs Robinson. But lately I have been thinking - is it fair to the birds that I give them scraps of my food,do they nibble at the eggs out of love or out of necessity? I suppose I will never know. As long as they clear the plate,so to speak,I should not worry. And I do buy every autumn at least a 5 kg bag of dry worms,another big bag of seeds and at least 40 balls of suet mixed with nuts,and by the end of May there is nothing left.

20/05/2016, My garden and I.

There was an article in The Mail several days ago about the benefits of gardening for dementia sufferers,they find it most therapeutic. Toddling about,picking up the odd leaf, cutting off the odd dead flower,sweeping the pavement,then sitting down to a lovely cup of something or something else,a Victoria sponge at the ready. What can be more enjoyable? And there is my garden. The birds love it. The squirrels love it. Even the neighbours' cats love it. But weeds love it most of all. So last night I started weeding. Two plastic bags filled. 102 to go. Can't be,you say. Yes,it can,I say. You must be weeding Kensington Gardens, you say. Oh no,I say, only my 26 x 7m patch. But it hadn't been cultured for years and years when I took over. I did employ a young man to clear the garden,and he did,in 2 weeks, working 8 hours a day. But come next spring it looked as if it hadn't been touched for donkeys years. To really get rid of the weeds one must get rid of the roots. With this I trust no-one but myself. The process is painstakingly slow,slow,slow. Three years ago was ready to have the garden re-designed, then the bombshell of the nicest kind - my neighbour put his house on the market. I knew what this would involve. I have not been disappointed. My plans to bring the garden to its magnificent former glory have been shelved. But the weeds grow merrily and every spring I start digging out,pulling out and wiggling out the roots. Never-ending thankless task to some,labour of love to myself. Why was I overjoyed when the neighbours had moved out? The husband was not a nice man. When we said our good-byes on 17th December three years ago he said I was the best neighbour he had ever had,he only wished he had appreciated me more. When the removal van pulled out I did a little dance of joy. I was joyfully dancing for a year and a half while the new owner got her planning application in order.

SIR NICHOLAS WINTON,

You have been awarded The Order of the White Lion by the Czech President Milos Zeman for saving 669 children from the Hitler's gas chambers. You were a LION amongst men.

19/05/2016, Itchy feet no more.

A cruise has been booked for the end of this month.Preparation has begun for the seven nights I will be away.19 letters still to be opened,responded to and filed,but as there doesn't appear to be anything urgent in the mail, it will be dealt with over the week-end. I have so many more pressing matters to take care of.

17/05/2016, So what next?

I have barely fed the birds and my feet are itching to go away again.Have looked at my lovely Oceana's cruises as the first choice,no destinations I liked were available on the dates I am free to travel in May/June. I have checked what the Queen Victoria has to offer,there is a perfect cruise on the 29th May for 7 nights, but no balcony state-room is available at this late stage, only an outside cabin with a completely obstructed view - there is a massive lifeboat hanging just at the front of the smallish window. To be looking at this for 7 days? Not the end of the world,f course,but am hedging my bets. Checked out Azura, it has a 6 night sail to ports I would like to visit again and balcony cabins aplenty,normally would not hesitate,but this is during the school holiday,and even though I really do not mind children,the British lot can be quite trying,the language,the unchecked unruly behaviour...any people would only travel on child-free ships. There is a spread in the Mail today about the largest cruiser ever built - The Harmony of The Seas. Am going to check it out.

Caviar long stay make-up and corrector by DERMACOL.

is the best make up I have ever tried.And I have tried them all. It does exactly what is says - stays on. All day. And the corrector,well, I have never ever in my entire life been so impressed. Never. Ever. It covers all imperfections beautifully They also do a concealer in a tube called MATT CONTROL CORRECTOR,about £3,again it does a supremely efficient job. DERMACOL has only one problem - it is made in the Czech republic and is not available in London. I have seen it in Slovakia, I have seen it in Vienna,but only some items. So if you ever go to the Czech Republic or Slovakia or you know someone who goes there,ask them to get it for you.About £8 a bottle, yes,you are reading correctly,£8. I have paid that much for a Max Factor re-toucher and there is absolutely no comparison size-wise or price-wise, I have used Charlotte Tilbury,I have bought Amazing Concealer by Amazing Cosmetics amongst other well known brands,all astronomically expensive and the quality with DERMACOL just does not compare. Thank you DERMACOL. And, by the way, I have a tan, and am using No 2, FAIR. I have also bought in Piestany,where I visit the supremely comfortable and lovely spa hotel Thermia Palace, VITAMIN E cream in a tube. It is a white/blue tube and it simply says VITAMIN E. About £4. I only wish I had bought more,I am not likely to make this mistake again.

16/05/2016, My garden,the jungle.

What can happen in just over two weeks has to be seen to be believed. My garden has become a jungle. The hours I have spent there pruning,sweeping,watering,raking the leaves...the never ending labour of love.It so needs my care again and it will get it, but not today. With the birds having been taken care of,as always the first thing I do when I return from a holiday, I turn on the washing machine,pop round to Waitrose for a take-away latte and to Marks & Spencer for croissants,then while enjoying this I sort out the  mail      [haven't counted the letters, but the pile is high, must be about 50]  and  lunch.The garden must wait.

16/05/2016, I am back at home.

What a gloriously sunny day to return,the birds chirping away in the garden,they have been fed now - the mackerel smoked in honey and whisky,Greek yogurt,three organic boiled eggs. And by golly aren't they enjoying it! Two large glutons by the bowls,little ones waiting their turn.

16/05/2016, London has a new Mayor.

Much has been written in the papers here about Londoners electing a Muslim as their mayor. I would not have voted for a Labour candidate, nor would have I voted for a Conservative candidate. My vote would have been a PROTEST vote,had I been at home on 5th May. My husband would have voted for Mr Khan. I can hear him say - let's give the man a chance. Not because he is a Muslim or a member of the Labour political party, they all are Labour until they get to the trough and smell the money. But because he is of a Pakistani origins. My Olly had the highest regard for all Pakistanis, they make the best carpenters,he would say. And the Irish make the best plasterers, I say. Years ago we had employed one such Irishman,he called me a little dumpling. I was only a slip of a girl then, not even 54 kg,so he was not referring to my weight,it was just his affectionate nickname for me. There was a pub just round the corner [ and still is ],and nothing makes an Irish plasterer happier and work better than a pint of Guinness,as I had come to learn. It is a thirsty work,Paddy would say,and disappear frequently,returning in the nick of time to polish and shine the wall further. Now that is what I call timing, that is what I call plastering ,my husband would nod approvingly with admiration. Some years later Patrick would come back to do some pointing,still single, still the same harmless banter,still calling me a little dumpling [maybe that's what he called all women, I never asked]. My hat down to Mr Mayor's bus driver father. Negotiating the streets of London in a bus with cars perched left right and every which way,is no mean task. Any-one who can drive a bus and have no accident is a miracle man. If our new Mayor is half as good at his job as his father was,we have nothing to fear. That said, I have had some hair-raising moments with drivers who think they are on a racing track or who do not know what the progressive braking is. If there is one thing I know about, it is progressive driving,my darling husband had never mastered the art,may he rest in peace,but that is another story for another time! I have witnessed several minor scrapes between a 52 and a 23 bus at the junction of Westbourne Grove and Kensington Park Road,drivers blaming each other,shouting in broken English. I am sure no Pakistanis were involved,more likely a hot tempered Spaniard or an arrogant Frenchman. The London Transport does a lot of recruiting in these countries. SO GOOD LUCK MR MAYOR!

And more rain.

Was so tired on Friday,having walked for six hours,got caught in the rain,came ten in the evening switched off the TV and went out like a light! Woke up at 4,nothing new, and here it does not bother me in the least,there is lots on the box throughout the night,daytime films and various show biz recordings are repeated,these I often watch with the sound turned off and I read at the same time. There was a talk with Adriana Sklenarikova,a model with the longest legs in the world according the Guinness book of records.living in Athens with a footballer husband Mr Karembeau in blissful matrimony,but this must have been a very,very old interview as the model's marriage had ended in a blissful acrimony,when the husband's numerous affairs came to light.Now she is married to a Tunisian restaurateur. If a model with the best legs in the business and the face of an angel cannot keep her man on the straight and narrow,what chance does an ordinary girl have? Two or so years ago the newspapers had a ball with a Chelsea footballer sleeping with his brother's wife.I do not remember the name now,nor do I recall if he was married. What I do know is that according to the papers he was the devil ,and quite rightly so, what despicable person would do this to his own brother, OWN BROTHER. Only an unprincipled worm can stoop this low. What I could not understand was that the wife of the brother was almost not mentioned. It takes two to tango.

14/05/016, Rain,rain, rain.

Yesterday late afternoon the heavens opened and I was expecting the roof to come down on the top of me.Never have I seen or heard anything of this gargantuan proportion to fall from above.Not even in London,and that is saying something! I thanked the lucky stars I was indoors already.I never mind getting caught in the rain, Many a time I have put on my Ciccone wellingtons [yes,made for Madonna's brother, I was given one of the samples as a gift and wonderfully comfortable they are,too) and a raincoat and walked the streets of London,so to speak,leaving my face exposed. I love to feel the rain-drops on my skin. It has been quite wet here during my stay, often I have had to take a taxi rather than walk as I much prefer doing. Like this morning. I took a ride to a shopping center called CENTRO, where one can find the loveliest boutiques for all ages and sizes,including adorable children's rucksacks.But all I wanted to do is to look and admire,even though I picked up an organic pear body lotion, cucumber micellar water,several lavender pouches to keep the moth away and a Si perfume 3 piece set, heavily reduced,by half at least, the last box remaining since Christmas, I bought it for the body lotion,my absolutely favourite lotion ever, it smells divine and I have never yet been able to buy it free-standing,so to speak, only as a part of a set,which I do not mind doing as I love giving the perfume and shower lotion away as presents My sister adores the smell, as did I until I started using Hermes' Un Jardin sur Le Toit. This has no equal. I absolutely adore Hermes as a brand. But no, I do not have their bags.

12/05/2016, YES is the answer I should give to to any invitation in the month of May rather than NO,

according to my horoscope. Last Monday sitting in my favourite coffee shop at my favourite table I noticed a man at a table next to me doing some paperwork,heard him making various business calls,as people do here. The wi-fi connection is excellent both inside and outside on the terrace,the coffee is good and there is generally a hive of activity all around.My friend came, we talked and she said a new neighbour had moved opposite the house her children want to sell, he lives alone,a widower.I said jokingly - well, wink at him, invite him for some tea and see what happens. I did,she replied, he is not interested! But you may be his type,she continued. Did you say he was a widower, I asked. Now that I think about it,I think he is divorced. Not for me,I laughed. Then I heard a man's voice - so I have no chance. It was our neighbour. I have been divorced for many years now,he added. My friend,a widow,who would like to get married again, took her chance and started a conversation. She obviously liked him very much, there was nothing not to like. They talked about Italy,the country she loves and visits frequently and where she is going again soon with her daughter. The man suggested Japan, he travels there regularly on business. I could see how much she wanted to take it further but an invitation to exchange phone numbers never materialized. Had he said hello to me before my friend came,had we found each other interesting,had he asked me out,would I have said a yes or would it have been my customary no. Well, I will never know now. Isn't life full of missed opportunities?

12/05/016, When the mighty fall.

Two or so weeks ago there was a film on TV - The man who came to dinner [1941] - with Betty Davies. Several years ago I saw her in a TV adaptation of an Agatha Christie book [the title of which I do not remember},looking old, wrinkled ,gaunt,one side of the face drooping, obviously after a recent massive stroke. Taken for a ride by various husbands and inept financial advisers,in old age reduced to TV work even though she very obviously wasn't well enough to perform. It was so sad watching her struggle with words. But in this old Hollywood comedy she was quite superior,even though, I must admit, I have never really liked her,Myrna Loy, Maureen O'Hara and especially the lovely Greer Garson being my favourite. I had learned English watching Myrna Loy and William Powell movies - The Thin Man, Another Thin Man, After The Thin Man, Shadow of The Thin Man, The Thin Man Goes Home....I have seen them all,some many times over! There is no better way to learn a foreign language than by watching undemanding old films.

12/05/2016, VENI VIDI VICI.

The house looked even uglier and more neglected than I remember.A massive garden at the front and the back that hasn't been loved for a long time.An outbuilding filled to the brim with old furniture and clothes,I could hear rats and mouse running above us, living it up,undisturbed for years. I explained to my friend that I could never ever live in the house,not even with substantial alterations inside,I would have it pulled down and have something modern,light,spacious, constructed. So to me only the land was of any value, not the house itself. I had told her in the past how much I would like to have a garden to enjoy and this certainly was a garden with potential and a half,but it is simply too big a project for me to take on now. I could see the disappointment in her eyes. The family has other viable options,my friend and the son are graduates, so the intelligence is there to make the right decision.

11/05/2016, Why are some people so in a hurry to die?

Michael,just 29,threw himself from the roof-top of a brasserie in the City of London.On the seventh floor,almost reaching the sky,he wrote in his final message-I am not made for this world,I'm bored of life,I have cracked. His last moments alone were captured by some tourists taking happy family photos. The handsome face with sad eyes. A fifty year old socialite had died after refusing life saving treatment because she thought she had lost her "sparkle". One of her children,a daughter,was not yet 18. When I was at a university in my first year,I had lunch with a fellow student,clever, beautiful,willowy figure, long glossy hair. As she reached for some salt across the table I could clearly see several scars on her wrist. I knew what they were.She knew I knew and for a while said nothing. Then just before leaving the table she whispered-I always wear long sleeves,I don't want any-one to know. I would never tell any-one,I replied. Thank you,she answered and continued - what do you do when you are unhappy? I dye my hair. She looked at me in disbelief - I could never do that. You wouldn't dye your hair but you would cut your wrists, I said slowly. Our eyes met, we held a long gaze,just two friends trying to understand each other's ununderstandable world. You have everything going for you,everything.Why? I don't know where I belong.My family were refugees of noble origins.I am a countess by birth,born in this country but I don't belong here.I always feel a part of me is missing. I was often told I had old head on young shoulders,but nothing had prepared me for this conversation.I din't know how to console her. We both were so young.She left at the end of the academic year.I don't know what has become of her. Why do some of us prefer dying to living? Taking one's own life - is it the hardest or the easiest decision to make? Not even in my darkest hour have I ever considered a suicide,not once,not for a moment.Does this make me a fool or a sage?A quitter or a fighter?

10/05/2016, My friend came and went.

She does not seem to have changed since I saw her last almost two years ago other than she had widened a bit.She asked me without any dilly dallying if I would buy the house her children own. I asked why they wanted to sell it now when in the past the boy was quite adamant he would never ever consider doing so,out of sheer spite I had always thought,as it never made any sense for him to live there,never having enough money to make even the most urgent repairs. His sister had earned even less than him,but they were lumbered together and she had always been at his mercy. And the boy really can be quite vicious. My friend said he told her that over the years every single spare penny he had had gone into the house and he just cannot live like that any longer, he would like to free himself from the burden,buy a flat that requires absolutely no work whatsoever,and finally begin to enjoy his life,buy clothes,go on holiday. His sister had breathed a sigh of relief when he told her of his intention.I told my friend had she offered me the house several years ago I would have bought it without hesitation as it truly has a fabulous potential,but now I am not sure.I told her I would like to have a look at it again before giving her a yes or a no. I am going to see them tomorrow.

09/05/2016, A friend in need.

As I write I am waiting for a friend I made when I bought the holiday flat. We meet for coffee or lunch most of the time I come here. As I do not have an internet connection in the flat yet, I write in a coffee shop near her home [she is a permanent resident] so it makes sense to meet here. She is a widow,too,and we have a lot in common. Her husband passed away about seven years ago now,leaving a large house and a flat. Thinking she was doing the right thing, she transferred the title of the house to both of her children,keeping the flat for herself,decision she came to regret profusely,with the boy,a teenager, blaming her quite unjustly for the death of his father [he had brain tumor] and often telling his mother and his sister to get out of the house as it was his. My friend has been too ashamed to confide in any of her friends or family but opened up to me,a total stranger, often seeking advice. Patience,patience, patience, I said,one day hopefully in the not too distant future he will realize the error of his ways. And so it came to be. Now they have an easy mother-son relationship. The children do not have the finances to keep the house in good order,they really have no idea what needs to be done,the advice they get from various builders and professionals, is self-serving. They had a new roof put on,a bad job, it looks awful,the same goes for the chimneys and various bits of plumbing,a new boiler installed was the wrong type,too small to heat the large property sufficiently. I knew from the very beginning the upkeep of the house would be too much for the children,a money pit,and I have been proved right.

09/05/2016, The weather is glorious.

I love my holiday home,the open plan kitchen-diner and a long balcony that runs several meters alongside the massive dining room. My visitors say jokingly the room is the size of a runway and it certainly is large.The whole living area of the flat is about 212 square meters,not counting two identical balconies.The flat, maisonette in fact, has some defects I need to deal with,but  it has the most wonderful position and views. Now that my  husband is no longer with me and the flat is too large for me,[it was too big for both of us,really],I have been thinking about converting it into two apartments,then selling one and keeping the sunny half,where the sun shines from about 11 am until it sets. Absolutely wonderful. The second possibility is that I sell the flat as is and buy something smaller.But I am in no hurry to make any decisions.For years I took care of my  ill husband and now that he has passed away  and even though I miss him terribly, I am going to savour the total freedom  every day brings.

8th May, It is my birthday today.

I am in Slovakia.My sister cooked lunch fit for a Queen, marinated chicken,boiled new potatoes mixed with spring onions cooked in butter,salad,simple,delicious. The cakes were home baked, utterly divine,made predominantly from walnuts,apples and cheese,my absolute favourite ingredients,some prepared by my sister,some by one of her daughters-in-laws. This morning I took a taxi to my holiday home about an hour's drive away.It is a flat on the top floor,there are two floors below me. I only bought it because there was no-one living above. And the views are lovely. But there are pigeons on the roof. They appeared in the area about four years ago and multiply with each passing year. It is a problem for the whole community, but the permanent residents in this quite exclusive area deal with the infestation kind of half-heartedly. Only people like myself, who occupy the top floors, see the damage the birds can cause. Last year I cleared out the guttering leaning from the windows as far as I could reach, then paid a young boy to do the corners. We threw out about 12 kg of bird droppings.Later,but too late, I was told there is no better fertilizer than pigeon droppings.Tell that to Mr Nelson in Trafalgar Square! This morning I climbed out of the windows again,the bird droppings have been bagged,they must weigh at least six kg and my sister will be overjoyed when I present her with them. But again I could not reach the corners,so the next time I come one of my nephews will pop over and finish the job. If I do not take care of it,it simply won't get done. I love the flat. I love the security it offers. I can lock the door,bullet-proof,by the way,and be away for several months knowing no burglar will ever lay his mucky hands on any of my possessions. I have had quite substantial alterations in the flat,next year will finish the project. I love the flat,pigeons and all!

LIRAGLUTIDE.

Is this the magic potion that stops the progression of Alzheimer's? The test on too few patients-38, for too short a time-26 weeks. provided "proof in principle" that this unforgiving illness can be halted. As I write the drug is being tested on 206 people at 20 UK hospitals.And if the results are positive, LIRAGLUTIDE would become the first licensed dementia treatment in 12 years. The results of the trials are expected in 2018. It is estimated,that 850 000 people in the UK have Alzheimer's. Several years ago 1000 doctors and nurses were asked what illness they feared the most.Almost all of them said Alzheimer's. Once it gets hold of one's brain the grip becomes more and more relentless with each passing minute,until it sucks all life out of it.The pain of watching someone you love become a living dead is unbearable.

05/05/2016, A week ago I arrived at the door-step of my sister.

She knew I would be coming but I didn't give her the date until the last moment and that's the way I like it much to her displeasure. She would insist on coming to pick me up at the airport and that is absolutely not necessary.Her hands are to the brim as it is,what with a full time responsible job, a husband,two married sons ,their wives and lovely children who are forever dropping in. She is an excellent cook, keeps a beautiful, immaculate home without any help, her garden is the best on the allotment.She is much respected and well liked, with a wicked sense of humour.Part of her not well paid job involves weekly meetings with very important people and I want her never to look out of place,if anything I want her to look better than any woman there,so I give her clothes I had never even worn myself,if I feel she would look lovely in them.Even now I brought her a suitcase full of tops and trousers and dresses,with some bags to match. She cooks my favourite food and I always put on weight here.The day before yesterday I invited for lunch two of my friends,one had a birthday on 29 April and I gave her a Balenciaga perfume.I love this brand,and giving perfume as a present one can only choose what one likes personally.My friend adored it.The other friend invited me for lunch yesterday,she had so much to tell me and also wanted my opinion how to furnish her daughter's flat. The daughter is recently married, she and her husband just purchased their very first home. As the wooden floor throughout the apartment is dark grey, they are considering various options how best to make the most of the colour. The kitchen is white. In my opinion keeping to white and various shades of grey [and I do not mean the fifty shades of grey] throughout would be the best way to go forward, as they have already chosen a perfect dark grey massive corner settee. Even though grey and white may seem dull, monotonous and too much of a muchness,the vibrancy can be added with cushions and curtain where the colour possibilities are endless.And of course, there are the plants and flowers,mirrors, pictures,etc.And spectacular chandeliers. So we talked and talked and suddenly four hours later it was 5pm,It is always so good to meet up with old trusted friends for a bit of a chinwag.I certainly need it.