FINALLY!!!!!

I cannot believe it was August when I last blogged - in fact I know it wasn't August when I last blogged so who has been stealing my blogs and who remembers what I said when I posted that has now disappeared? Someone tell me I am not going mad - please.
So what's going on in Fabal's world?
I think I may have mentioned (that's the trouble when you are posting, you can't read what you have already put) that Bodybuilder is now in his flat and doing very well. He has completely decorated his main room in very tasteful colours and this is now full of a bed , a computer and not much else. The bathroom and toilet were quite disgusting when he moved in and he has done a really great job in cleaning up and decorating. It's almost a pleasure to go, but not quite along the lines of Madonna Inn in California if anyone is familiar with that. There things seem to have ground to a halt BUT we were entertained to dinner there this evening (the flat, not the bathroom) and an excellent meal it was apart from the electricity failing half way through. A romantic dinner by candlelight for four and a dog doesn't quite work.
Jetski boy is now raring to start driving lessons (courtesy of 18th birthday) so all those journeys in his car "just to keep the battery topped up" have proved worthwhile.
Whilst all this was going on, Mrs Claus and Fabal had a very good week in Yorkshire, the requisite Indian Summer having been ordered. Everywhere seems to have a wheel these days including York and on our last evening this was magnificently illuminated to great effect. We really wanted to revive memories of the Minster but memory has its price and at £6.50 a head we decided to keep our memories faulty though they may be. My own, recall Archbishops of York and Canterbury together with Robin, Primate of all Ireland descending on my mother and telling her what a wonderful little boy she has. Such memories are priceless and in this instance actually true. Unlike the memories of Zaphod Beeblebrox whose mother is simply waiting for what she calls "the right price". Harry Enfield doing Douglas Adams by the way is just no substitute for the good old days of Peter Jones. Oh to be a hitchhiker exploring the galaxy on 30 altarian dollars a day. The trouble with Yorkshire is that they have obviously moved some of it around as I am sure things are not in the same place they used to be 30 years ago when the County saw the nuptuals of Mrs Claus and Fabal.
Vaccinations are very much the theme at the moment, at least for the senior members of the family (Hugh having now officially passed his 50th birthday in dog years) with Hepatitis for the two legged ones, flu for Mrs Claus and the most expensive Bob Martins for you know who. Needles are not by favourite thing so now we have this interesting exercise whereby Mrs Claus books a double appointment and then calls me in at the last minute, distracts me whilst Rebecca sticks a pin in me and then sends me out again. They all have a good laugh at the surgery and I manage not to fall on the floor so everyone is happy, unless of course they were waiting to see me fall on the floor if that is what passes for entertainment these days.
I shall refrain from comment on the economy as it is likely to make me cry, most of my investments and all my pension being tied up in one particular bank. This is obviously my penance for having once admitted to selling endowment mortgages. All I can say is that the Saint and I got out as soon as we could after that started. Jetski Boy is asking for an explanation of futures and derivatives and then quotes facts and figures about the great depression to me saying that he got a B in history and knows all about it. Does anyone want to go halves in a soup kitchen with me?
I am sure that there are lots of other items of news and comment just waiting to be added but the meter requires another sixpence so I must sign off for now. I hope to be back with you more quickly this time so thank you for your patience and I will blog with you again soon