See, I'm getting on a bit, and have always assumed that I would be a dead person by now. So it's a bit disturbing to find that there's no real reason why I shouldn't live for another hundred years or so. The situation needs to be taken care of!
And speaking of old geezers, my dad had a couple of surprise visitors yesterday. As you know, Offspring is now living with his uncle and aunt in London. Offspring, uncle and two other uncles had journeyed Oop North (actually one of them had journeyed Over West, 'cos he lives in the Netherlands), for a bit of a fambly get-together (BetterArf's side). I was surprised yesterday to get a phone call from one of the uncles asking me where my dad lived. Because they (uncle and Offspring) were outside the Top Club, it wasn't opening for another half-hour, and they didn't want to be hanging around in the cold. I sent them somewhere else where my dad might be, because it's just impossible to describe how to find his house.
Meanwhile I phoned the old Popsicle, and told him to get his ass down to t'Top Club and see a grand kid that he hasn't seen for a reet long time. He really thought I was winding him up.
Anyway, they had a good time and all is well. I spoke to Offspring on the webcam earlier - he says the Top Club is facing a crisis - they need 3 trustees and they've only got one. The trustees are essentially financial guarantors for the club, and can lose their assets if the club goes bust. As if! The place is a goldmine! It makes a fortune. Even in a village full of poor ex-coalminers, it's just a total cash-magnet. Cripes, if they can't find two more trustees, I'll buy it. Change nothing, just keep it going and probably retire on the proceeds in five years' time.
I'll ask my financial advisor about it next time I see him.