WHAT a week! Wet, cold, miserable. It’s ‘no-one loves me’ sort of weather, hardly conducive to Christmas shopping.

But then, that’s not worrying me.

Yes, I must admit I’m feeling just a little bit smug as my shopping is all done, all wrapped. It is? No, of course it’s not. I’m lying.

It’s all laid out on the couch in the front room waiting, longing, yearning, for my attention, but it will be done today, honest!

Oh! I know I said that yesterday, and come to think of it I said that last week as well.

It’s all been a bit hectic as Bill was admitted to Blackpool Victoria Hospital for a heart bypass operation.

I’m glad to say that op went well, but he’s had complications, and yesterday it was even thought he might have to have his foot amputated due to a blood clot, but glad to say it’s OK now, and hopefully he’s on the mend.

We are so lucky to have the National Health Service.

I recall the day the service started.

It was July 4, 1948, which I thought was somewhat symbolic at the time, as I was with some American friends who were celebrating their Independence Day.

Some years ago, I broke my ankle in Miami and the hospital bill was horrific. Fortunately, I had travel insurance, otherwise I’d still be paying for it.

  • THERE are some towns, some places, that will always hold some attraction, some association that makes them that bit more important, that bit more special, London must be ‘the’ city of excitement and promise, New York where I nearly married an American, Copenhagen where I nearly married a Dane, and then there’s Blackpool, which has to be one of them because all my childhood holidays were spent there.

Then there’s Brighton, where all those years ago I won Miss Holiday Princess, Bury where I was born, but not brought up, and last, but certainly not least, my beautiful Blackburn, the town that holds all my best friends, my best memories, and certainly my best of times.