Saturday, 2 September 2006
Dad's Old Tartan Ready Reckoner
To this day, I couldn't really tell you what it was (....something to do with calculating your stakes and winnings from a bet on the gee-gees in "old" money and then converting to "new", I think. Yes, I know.)
Whatever, it was common for dad* to spend entire evenings frowning and grimacing at its inscrutable hieroglyphs...
...or maybe he was just staring blankly at the illustrations
and wishing he was down the pub...?
[S. is singing "I'm a Widow of Blog" to the tune of "Walking the Dog" as I type....]
*She's* the funny one...
*I typed 'dead', not dad there at first. Bloody Freud.
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