I’ve been getting unnaturally giddy about the Eurovision song contest over the last couple of days, probably just as I was last year, and I was just reminded that Abba and Bucks Fizz were not the first foursome to do it for me. No. That pleasure goes to the Brotherhood of Man with Save All Your Kisses For Me. So today’s MLM is brought to you with the happy cheer of England’s finest.
I have some vague recollection of seeing Brotherhood of Man – nay, even having the song sung to me – when I was small. I need to warn you that this could be a complete fabrication as it is not an event often talked about in my family (unlike the time my brother bit me) and I was probably about four or five. I’m pretty sure no photographic evidence exists, which makes it even more unlikely that it’s true. However, in my head, there is some kind of chicken-in-a-basket meal followed by music and bar stools. What follows in my mind is quite a lot of winking and singing. I’m pretty sure it was in Portsmouth or somewhere on the South Coast if it happened at all. Since we went away at Easter sometimes, I’d hazard a guess it was Easter of 1977, though that would be weird because my sister would have been very small and I can’t think that we went away when she was only a few weeks old. Plus, they were very popular and by their decline in 1979, I think I’d have remembered something like that.
Anyway, there it is. My first brush with fame. Maybe. I’m sure someone in my family will correct my faulty memory. Otherwise, someone WILL have lied to me and told me that I was the girl who was only three and the whole cheesy lovefest is a song to the young me. You can kind of see how that might evolve into a chicken-in-a-basket meal with entertainment in Portsmouth, can’t you?
If it’s not true, it’s a pretty weird thing to fabricate, but hey ho. I guess Freud dealt with worse.
I’ll be pretty sad though if it’s not true.
So, besides (constructed?) memories about Brotherhood of Man, what else gives me much love this Monday?
First is the fact that although it is going to get cold from tomorrow, you kind of can live with it because you know it will be over soon. It’s like when I used to do marathon-long runs. The hardest point is between the 16 and the 21-mile mark when you can’t see the end and you just want it to stop. The last few miles are just run in elation as you near the end and you know it’s all about to stop.
Much Love for the first barbecue of the season this weekend.
Much Love to me for changing the oil on the lawnmower, replacing the primer and finding a blade that will fit. It’s like a new mower.
Much Love – and this is the best bit – for the Tilly Popper. I bought Heston a couple more toys last week. Of course, they’re not just his toys, but Tilly, my little spaniel, has never shown the slightest ‘chase’ inclination. She played with a bit of bone for a while, but if it’s not food, it doesn’t interest her. She likes her Kong, but because it gives her food treats. But she has learned – or relearned – lots of good things these last few weeks. The first is on walks. She is much more adventurous now and goes off on little adventures of her own, which is very cute. And, though, this is the best bit. One of the balls I got for Heston makes a bit of a noise when it rolls, and she went mad for it. I’ve never seen her play with a ball at all, and it’s just great to see her have so much fun. I guess she hadn’t been walked often before she came to me two years ago. She managed half of the smallest walk we ever do and lay down on the floor in protest. Weeks later, when we got lost and had a three-hour accidental walk, I had to carry her. Now she runs most of the way round our walks, and though she is not as fast as Heston by a long stretch, she gives good chase. Having a dog who loves walks and is learning to play again is all good stuff. Not only that but she quite often puts her paws up on me now – and she never used to do that before. She is so totally cute. I love my Tilly Popper.
It must be horrible to be the kind of dog who isn’t expected to do doggie things, like walk or play or jump. It’s no wonder she just liked treats. She didn’t even use to like being petted or touched, and now she will very often sit on my knee, though she is too big to be a lapdog.
Of course, she likes it that she is top dog. If she growls, Heston obeys. If she wants to sit with me, then Heston can go to hell as far as she is concerned. She’s always been ‘second dog’ so it’s kind of good for her to be top dog.
Her little wiggly bottom is just about the best thing in the world to bring a little Monday love to me. Going for walks is all worthwhile just to watch her wiggle!