Nobody puts Baby in the corner....

We play this game in our house, being the internet/media freaks that we are. It's called 'Guess who's dead'. It's a case of going about your daily lives until you hear/read the news that a celebrity has kicked the proverbial bucket. We then jump up and head for the nearest family member shouting 'Guess who's dead' in a Peter Kay impression. (You'd have to be a Peter Kay fan to know the reason, Connie, Connie). Even if they are asleep, we wake them up.

Usually I get beaten if the son names the person which he usually does because he turns his laptop on as soon as he wakes up. Although I tend to win on the obscure ones....

However I won't be playing that today, I have heard today that Patrick Swayze has danced his way off the mortal coil. I'm actually quite sad. Not in a crying or sobbing way and no, I won't be sending flowers. But sad at the loss of a man that came across as a gentle soul and true gent.

I first saw him in Red Dawn, that was pants, but after that it was Dirty Dancing. It came out in the year that my daughter was born and I really liked it. I'm usually a horror or crime fan but this one had my toes tapping. We used to laugh at 'Johnny' walking away from Baby's dad, in his cuban heels it looked like he had pooped his pants. That naff naff line we all know and love, made us roar out loud.

But it was a great film and when my younger sister (she's 17 years younger than me and there are a couple of brothers in between) discovered a video of it on the shelf at my mum's when she was 5 or 6, a true love affair blossomed.

My sister fell in love with Patrick Swayze, as she grew up I watched her turn into a beautiful and smart young woman. She isn't perfect, is anyone? but she has a beauty and a strength of character that I don't even think she realises she has. I think she always harboured a belief that she would bump into Patrick one day and knock him off his feet (not literally) and he would leave his wife for her. LOL. Bless her.

She went through a long labour with her little boy while listening to the soundtrack of Dirty Dancing and the little fella actually popped out to the strains of 'She's like the wind'...LOL. Her other half drew the line at her giving him the name Patrick.

Patrick Swayze was a man who fought his illness with a determination, who was married to the same woman for 34 years and who behaved with dignity. There were never any scandalous stories, he didn't run off to Africa to adopt when he found that he and his wife couldn't get the baby they so desperately wanted, nor did he bugger off and find someone else who could give him a baby. A rarity if ever there was one.

I think, no I know, my sister will be shedding a few tears today, I don't think she will be alone.

Have a lovely day and remember to tell the ones you love, how much they mean to you xxx

Spain...

As some of you may know we were heading off to Spain on our trip home for a family wedding. I was expecting tourists, beaches, tans and robbers from Essex in disguise. I was pleasantly surprised. We were in Granada for the first leg of our trip before heading down to Nerja on the south coast to see some old friends from Saudi.

Granada is beautiful. I could live there. It is a definite 'lifestyle' place. Sipping coffee at an outside table in the morning, long leisurely lunches with friends, a siesta in the afternoon then off out for beer and Tapas at about 10pm until the wee small hours.

The wedding was beautiful, as was the bride, she had organised it to perfection and still looked perfect when we left at 3.30am. The brother in law is lucky to have her. But in truth, I now think they are actually lucky to have each other. They are perfectly matched with lots of differences to make sure that they don't become bored with each other. They looked in love and happy and I really wish with my hand on my heart, that they have a long and happy life together.

So that is all the Barnes Boys married off now - I never thought I'd see the day but it's happened. LOL

Anyway, back to Spain, if you ever ever have the chance to go, then do. Stay away from the tourist side of things tho' and head for the culture.

Ah, culture - the 'C' word LOL. It makes me laugh fit to burst when people (usually vacuous blonde expats) say that the Middle East is cultural. They are usually talking about seeing women in abayas in the Malls and have an English copy of the Koran on a doily on their Ikea shelving unit....not the wonderful history and architecture of the place. Which, by the way if anyone is interested in, should definitely visit the Museum of Islamic Art in Doha - see below - it is a beautiful building and if you are ever in Doha, should make an effort to visit it.

So...today I'm off to the vet with the dog and then attempting to finish washing the clothes for 3 adults after 3 weeks in the UK....

xx

PS tomorrow I think I will be doing a critique on Daniella Westbrook's face......wtf has she done to herself?

Well now...

It's been a 3 weeks. I would have blogged but I was actually having such a bloody good time that I honestly couldn't be arsed.......lol

I will say this tho, customs at Heathrow....was an experience this time. I always find Heathrow a chore. Actually it pisses me off in the extreme. But this time was the topper! I walked through the arch which always goes *BING* *BING* due to strange bangles on my arms and that old favourite the 'UNDERWIRE'.........

So I *binged* and the rather pretty Asian/Brit with the very deep voice patted me down......for 5 minutes. 3 of those minutes were spent on my boobs and 90 seconds on my rather flat arse.

'I'm sorry Madam but I'm afraid we will need to do a more personal check'

My arse cheeks clenched with such a snap it could be heard in China. 'What does that entail exactly?'

'I just need to lift your teeshirt and check that wire' (At this point I started laughing nervously, over 75 people had wandered past me at this point with puzzled expressions, looking at me like I was a cross between Howard Marks, Pete Docherty and Carlos the Jackal)

So we wander into a room with another female customs officer (apparently there for my human rights) I pull up my shirt, she fondles my bra, then the waistband to my jeans and tells me I can leave.

I said 'thanks' as I was leaving then it dawned on me that why the hell was I saying thanks????!!!

I smiled and said 'Usually I get a pint of guinness and a packet of crisps before any of that nonsense'..........

Did they laugh? NO.

Apparently whilst I was being stripped of my tee shirt and self confidence my husband asked the supervisor if their current 'Terrorist Checklist' included middle aged women wearing a Rolex and Versace glasses............to which their answer was 'Maybe'....

I learnt a couple of things..... 1. I am damn attractive to butch custom's officers....

and 2...they have NOOOOO sense of humour.

But now, I'm back in doha and counting down my two years. Off now to nurse my poorly dog who has come home from the kennels with a dodgy eye. He's gone a bit downhill in the past hour and even turned his nose up at chicken. Vets tomorrow.

Much love to you all xxx