... is not a good time for me. I've already mentioned that it would have been my Dad's birthday on the 27th. [He would have been 88 this year.] My Sandy, a labrador / Jack Russell cross who was a prince among dogs, died on 24th August 1990 and I still shed tears for him. He was 18 and I'd had him from when I was 22 to when I was 40. That's a period that saw a lot of changes in this woman's life. And my Gil Blas [in the 3rd picture] died in early September 1999. He was a rescued dog and quite a handful. The love he gave me was of quite a different kind to that offered by Sandy or by my precious Simi now but it was love nonetheless. He wouldn't let anyone near me!
And on this day, at 7.36 pm British time in 1993, my Mum died in my arms. Those of you who have been following the blog since August last year may recall that I like to have a drink to her at that time. And so I did tonight. Cincin, mamma.