Twenty Nine Forever

When I was little, about 6 or 7 years old, I asked my mum how old she was. The answer was "29 again". As a 6 or 7 year old who believed in the infallibility of all things grown-up, my mum was therefore 29 and will always be.

It, of course, doesn't matter how old she is. As long as she is happy, healthy and wants to have fun, I think that's all that matters.

She turned up in Germany today - as pink as yesterday's rose Blip and totally ready to find out what Germany has to offer.

Priorities being priorities though, things had to start with a cup of tea. My mother does not function without tea. Coffee will do as a poor second, but a cup of tea is the only thing that properly hits the spot. And being the caring and considerate son that I am, tea was provided. And as hotels in Germany do not routinely have a kettle/tea making facilities in their rooms, we've made sure she has a kettle, tea-bags, a mug and enough milk that will probably see her through the night.

This was taken on the roof terrace.

My mum and a glass of Sekt.

I'm chuffed to bits she's finally here and she can see a bit of meine neue Welt.

I'll leave it up to people who knew me to say how much we look like each other or not. The first one who says she looks younger than me gets an automatic Xmas card from her and a Jobby in a Box from me.