Oh dear, I'm turning old...

First of all - I sold two more paintings today to someone in alabama - yippeeee !

I'm running out of stuff to stick on the web site so must get painting again soon, for the first time in her life suzanne can't complain about me spending all my time stood at the easel - because its selling :)

Anyhow,

I'm officially turning old, middle-aged at least.

Why ?

Because I'm actually thinking of buying a frickin caravan.

In my defence its a static one, its on a site in beautiful Northumberland so it won't ever go on the road and annoy the hell out of motorists, in fact its not a caravan - its a "holiday home", there, that sounds better, I can still hate caravanners if I own a "holiday home".

But its such an old fogey thing to do, I don't know why I want to do this, if you'd asked me three months ago I'd have told you without hesitation, even before you'd finished the sentence, I'd have told you to fekk right off, no way would I become a sad old bastard who sat in their tin holiday home every weekend staring out through the rain at the sheep in the next field, no way would I have done that.

But Suzannes sister has bought one, and one of her brothers uses the same site and with her mother facing a long term health problem it just seems to fit nicely with the idea that we should return to the north east and have some sort of a base there to keep in touch with her family - see what I'm doing, I'm making an excuse already, bugger it, I'm an old git who wants to sit in his tin holiday home and watch it rain on sheep all weekend.

Our kids of course hate the idea, which is just fine and hunky dory by me, they are old enough to leave at home while we travel oop north so fekk 'em, its time they stood on their own two feet and learned that we can abandon them even if its just for two days every few weeks.

It didn't take Jodie too long to work out that if we did have a tin box in a field in Northumberland then we might forsake our annual holiday to Menorca next year, she's a bright kid, yes its true Jodie, we might just choose to forsake the pleasure of spending four thousand pounds for two weeks in august, it might just come to that, and frankly my dear, I don't give a damn.

I'll be growing a grey beard and wearing sandals with socks on soon.