Hmm, the generation game takes another twist and turn. After an enthralling evening simply cradling, molly-coddling and camera-snapping young nephew Harry when he came to call the other night, just a few hours into the early morning came the news my Great-Uncle Reg had, yes, this time actually died, having been knocked down and yet got up again so many times, and so many times indeed since I unfortunately, prematurely wrote him off a few months ago... only for a little more respite. My mum's was onto the M1 to the Midlands almost within minutes of that unwanted phone call - I assume the rest of us shall follow in the next week or so for what should be a quirky yet grand old soldier's funeral.
And I do hope Harry comes too...
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