Silver body graffiti (Rousse)

I soon worked out that TPR had been up to no good on New Year’s Eve – thanks to the messages in silver body ink that his new lover had penned across his impressive torso.

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Wonders of the Walkman (Rousse)

I reminded myself of the wonders of the Walkman when I borrowed a white one to relive the excitement of my first encounter with personal audio technology in the early 1980s – notably the weight of the device and the hiss of C90 tapes.

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Bored by Donald Trump (Rousse)

I was so bored with the discussion of Donald Trump that I left the conversation by floating above everyone from a new position just beneath the ceiling.

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A private island and missing fortune (Rousse)

CO and AM had gone for the upmarket version of the holiday. While we were stuck at the resort with everyone else, they hired their own private island (maximum occupancy 3), and came over by yacht to join the rest of us whenever they wanted to partake in any organised activities.

The holiday was ruined when CO started arguing with me over £10,000 that I owed him for a research project. AM just shrugged her shoulders as each of us appealed to her to adjudicate our dispute. Meanwhile the rest of the holiday-makers were preparing for a day of scuba diving.

I left CO fuming, and abandoned any idea of fun with my friends for the day. I ended up walking the rainy streets of Edinburgh, completely unshod, wearing nothing but a thin T shirt and baggy track suit bottoms.

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Top hair trend 2022: eighteenth century wigs (Rousse)

Belle and I admired one another in the mirror. Conferences were so much more fun now that eighteenth century headgear was all the rage.

We were most impressed when ET joined us, balancing on her head a tottering powdered Georgian wig, decorated all over with tiny red bows.

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Inhospitable hospitality (Rousse)

It was only when we woke up in the morning that I discovered that TPR had refused his cousin entry to our (huge) bed.

Instead GP had slept on the floor, next to his son EP in a cot.

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House dressing (Rousse)

From the outside, my sister’s flat looked pretty much the same. The only difference was the selection of handmade cat greeting cards for sale to passing tourists on the window ledge.

Inside, however, a huge transformation had taken place. The flat was airy, clean, neat, tidy and beautifully decorated, with not a single item was out of place. Indeed it looked ‘dressed’ for photographing for a lifestyle feature in a homes and gardens magazine, or even for sale.

If my sister could keep this place immaculate, surely there would also be hope for my mother’s house?

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Press release and party problems (Rousse)

No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t compose the first line of my press release. However, help would soon be at hand with the arrival of NP (in a beautiful filmy lemon dress) and ED (visiting from London).

NP’s outfit matched the colour of the supply of bottled cocktails that I brought to the party, so I passed one over to her. At the same time, she snatched my work away from me. At first I thought that this was an offer to complete it. Instead, she put aside – out of my reach – in favour of partying.

When my niece AMF arrived, I tried to interest her in finishing off my press release, but she was of the same opinion of NP and ED. This was a celebration and not a work event.

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Opportunities for direct entry students (Rousse)

My former colleagues SC and LM sat with us at the dinner table.

SC mentioned an opportunity that I thought would interest direct entry students. When I contributed this idea to the discussion, SC gave me a dirty look and stormed out of the room.

‘What was that all about?’ asked my colleague AN. I replied that I didn’t know, but would find out. Then I left the table to chase SC.

I found SC half way up the stairs. The reason for her upset was that she felt that I should have shown her more respect in the discussion of direct entry students. After all, she had a long association with provision for them prior to her retirement.

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Escaping a war zone by leaky raft (Rousse)

As the bombs dropped on the city, we raced to the port. Here all sorts of vessels lined up to evacuate the population. I hoped that we would be assigned to one of the sturdy blue fishing boats, but by the time we reached the head of the queue the small fleet had departed. Our only option now was to pay pirates to help us make our escape.

After some haggling, we exchanged TPR’s gold watch and my wedding ring for a place on a leaky wooden raft. It did not look very seaworthy, but what option did we have?

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