Another year gone.

This time last year we were in Boston. I’d got seconded to that fair city for what turned out to be the best part of five months at the end of ‘94, and ended up spending the Christmas period in Boston. Fortunately my forward looking and progressive company brought my family over for three weeks over the Christmas holiday and we got some skiing in. (You’ll recall how active and sporting I’ve always been? Well nothing changes: age cannot wither him and all that...) Actually it was one of the best holidays we’ve ever had, even if it did cause muscles that I never knew I had to hurt. The kids, of course, knew no fear and were zooming down black pistes at around 100 mph within minutes of first donning skis. (At least that’s the way it appeared to me.) Through the rest of the spring I helped the airline industry pull itself out of the doldrums by its own bootstraps and learned along the way that it’s not only one’s eyesight that deteriorates with age, it’s also harder to get over jetlag than it used to be. I still use the patented (free licenses granted) “brewski^©” cure, which relies on the fact that if you’re going to f_**k-up (an Irish or Gaelic term) your body you might at least enjoy it along the way.

The kids (Sophie-9, Stephanie-12, and Sebastian-6 just in case you’re wondering the age group for a suitable gift) are getting on well. Steph’s moved on to secondary school at this stage and has settled in like she’d never been anywhere else, despite being the youngest in her class, Sophie will follow in 18 months and the way she’s going now will have the same lack of problems (beats on wood furiously). Sebastian is one of those people to whom the world just happens; nothing phases him, everything is easy. Maybe it’s just an act but if so then he’ll have to take up acting.

Summer was spent in Italy. (Don’t you just hate these people who move hemispheres when rain threatens) Actually the first two weeks in August were spent in Italy. Before I went I spoke to a German “colleague” who I knew had holydayed there before to ask his opinions. He referred to it as “south germany”, an attitude of such monumental condescension that I just had to go and spend money there to help redress the balance. Italy is (as you can see I’m now an expert) a country that is nearly as anarchic as Ireland (except they don’t have such a good football team). On a visit to Milan where they all drive as though auditioning for a part in the Ferrari works team they made disparaging remarks about Naples. “In Naples” they said, sotto voce “a red traffic light is advisory”. I laughed making allowances for the known north/south bias in the country. I shouldn’t have; they spoke the literal truth, but it’s so much less boring that way. I don’t know about you but I find that my boredom threshold is getting ever lower, bring back Attila the Hun is what I say, then we’d have some real government, not the wimpish pinko proselytising social workers (yeah OK I’ll wash my mouth out with soap straight after this) who pass for governments these days. I don’t know, when I were a lad things were different; we’d never had it so good in them days, and, what’s more, they told us so. Those were the days....

Now where was I? Oh yes...

Annie is now taking over.  Do excuse him, but you know old age and menopause and all that, it does seem to affect men much more than women. I always knew we were stronger.  A somehow mixed year, but improving all the time. I have now three jobs, very busy with three kids, but enjoying it! Next week we should be on Internet with email. Have a lovely Christmas and do keep in touch.

     Peter and Annie Barwich