I didn't blub when they told me I had it in my lungs and it had it in for me big time; I didn't blub well hardly at all when I told my kids; I don't blub much in the night when I think about leaving everyone but last night over tandoori prawns and aubergine bhaji the floodgates opened. Next to the table where weirdly dressed young people cracked crackers and talked loudly about sex, dear friends Chris and Denise said they would pay for our ticket to Dresden and I just lost it. Why I don't know; why should that make me weep? It still does and not for the first time I wonder about myself and my reactions to this monster; all out of my control at times clearly.
Anyway you will gather from this and you will be right that we are off to Dresden. On Tuesday to be precise. Up till recently Dresden has meant delicate china and less than delicate firebombing by us in the war now it offers me the chance to get the blobs out of my lungs and to challenge their mates not to bother to move in to take their place. It's a bit tight for Christmas so I have bought the tree, wrapped the presents and written the cards. Tomorrow I will leave instructions for my sous chefs, namely the kids and their partners, about what to do for the Turkey (actually a turkey stuffed with a duck, stuffed with a pheasant) dinner.
They still may not do me; they may think the blobs are winning in which case Dresden will turn into one of our trips of a lifetime and we will begin our Weinachts with a bang and not a whimper in sight.