I am just a little old grey-haired lady. No, really! I am! OK, so the grey hair is disguised under a mess of pinkish purplish red and I’m not (at the moment) walking with a stick, but I really am just a little old grey-haired lady underneath it all .. just not very prim & proper.
I have been married to my Other Half (usually referred to as ‘OH’ in these pages) for thirty-something years. We have two sons, Son No 1, and Son No 2. Both have partners; in Son No 1’s case, this is the lovely T, who is a very artistic Italian lady, with beautiful black hair. Son No 2 has the lovely B, a red-haired Irish lass of enviable calmness who loves potatoes in all their forms. I love them both. Son No. 2 and B have identical twin girls, S & P. OH and I have two greyhounds: Sid, who lost a leg in his last race, and Jeff who did not.
And we all live in England, which does exist, despite anything the government might tell you.