Spain has long attracted British petty criminals, and now my dad has joined their ranks.
A rather tragic incident in a London supermarket really ... as he stood dreaming happy pensioner dreams, he suddenly noticed his wife and daughter (not me, thank goodness!) were walking off to the car park. He grabbed the full trolley and ran to catch up.
What a shock for the nice lady paying for her groceries to have some demented old fool grab her trolley and rush out with it.
She followed in hot pursuit shouting at him. Wife and daughter turned to see what the carry-on was all about. Humiliated beyond belief once the hideous realisation dawned on them, their pain was not over. He tried to soothe Mrs Angry Shopper by putting his arms round her.
Bad mistake.
Daughter hurries to book them on a flight to join other daughter (aaargh! that's me ... ) in Spain.
So here I am, nearly 50, with parents still coming on holiday with us. My darling is happy though, as he now has someone else who likes to travel to foreign parts and spend most of the day inside reading English newspapers, watching BBC news and eating meat and spuds each night.
I know its snowy and miserable at home, so I hope that telling you how lovely and warm it is here will cheer you up! If it's any consolation, I have been doing penance in the town where we are.
If you have been a bit sinful, you can work some of that sin off by walking up the 365 steps to a chapel, and even walking back down and up another very steep hill to a monastery if you have been very bad.
However, my eating sins are too great to be undone with just a bit of walking.
Noriko Neill has turned up to stay with us, and I am hoping the photo my cruel mother took yesterday of me washing down a large and very delicious local cake with a nice cold beer, while Noriko slaved away giving my hideous feet a pedicure doesn't turn up anywhere.
Noriko and I have missed each other everywhere for nearly a year, so we are having a fabulous catch-up.
Our daughter is here to stay as well. I can't tell you how jealous I am of her. Not only is she 18, but living in Barcelona for the year. To make things worse, her five months here have made her Spanish far more fluent than the years of lonely long-distance university study have done for mine.
The Swimmer. Her first one, Mosquito, was shortlisted for several big awards, and I am sure The Swimmer is going to win some.
It's one story told by a British woman in love with a younger Sri Lankan man who is an illegal immigrant in Britain. It's also told by his mother from Sri Lanka and his Sri Lankan/British daughter.
There are a lot of people I know who are very uncomfortable about illegal immigrants in New Zealand, but reading this makes you realise how uncomfortable it is to be one, and how powerless they are.
Well, some of them, anyway!
This is heartbreaking stuff and it made me feel so sad, especially when I got to the last page still wanting more.
Don't forget to keep me up to date with all the goings on in our beautiful part of the world
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