It looks as if the party will be on the 19th or 20th August. I’ll update soon.

What has made me happiest about the blog parties, over the last 12 or so years, is that – obviously – I’ve met good friends I’ve made online and, in person, we’ve firmed up our friendship, but even more that some of you have become friends through the blog parties and met in between times. It’s a real pleasure to me.

I had various things in the post today, which looked official so I avoided opening them until this evening. One was my DBS certificate – Disclosure and Barring Service, that is – the proof that I’ve never been caught doing something I shouldn’t, therefore am deemed reliable to be among children and other vulnerable people. I already have a DBS certificate in regard to the school trust, but it’s not transferable, so I had to jump through the same hoops for the church. It only proves my name isn’t flagged up but, of course – obviously, indeed – there’s nothing there anyway. I’m as squeaky clean as they come. I’d say that, of course…

The rest of the post all, apart from newspapers, was about Tim’s bank accounts. Finally, they’ve been closed. This has been a slog. I sent in everything to prove his death and my identity. About a year ago, they said it was all okay and the money in his accounts would be paid to me. It wasn’t. I’d been overwhelmed enough by everything else, mainly the sale of his house and I didn’t do anything about it. A few weeks ago, there was a query so I had to start it all up again.

Now I’ve only got one more set of hoops to jump through and it’ll be sorted out. It won’t help. It’ll be two years, in another 7 weeks, since Tim died and nothing has started to feel any better. 9 years, nearly, since Russell died. Really not good at all. But dwelling on it doesn’t help either. Chin up and pretend is better.

Now that the blog party is postponed, I have some spare time next week – not on the original day, in fact, as other friends are coming to stay then. But I am resolved to turn out the study. I’ve asked Wink to hold me to it. She has authority to nag. I promise not to hate that.