My Dad ...

I'm just back from 24 hours out at Dad's and it was grand.

He took Gert and I along to the local RSA, where he's president, and we were able to spend a lovely couple of reminiscing hours with people not seen in a long time.  My favourite, without doubt, was Mr Bertie Paul.  I can't even write his name without smiling.  He's 89 and as delightful as ever.

But mostly it was superb to finally catch up with my dad.  It's been far too long. 

And then one of my little brother's wandered in from Australia ... 14 years of not seeing Stephen was finally over.  He and Julie looked just the same.

It's been an almost overwhelming couple of weeks back in New Zealand, so far.  A time of incredible kindness from people not seen in so long.  And it continues, with stories still needing written.  But life goes on and I'm off out again soon.

Tot later, but in the meantime, meet my dad.