Let's hear it for Mr Creosote...

The sad news about Terry Jones's nasty affliction has rather got to me. My dear mum succumbed to Alzheimer's, and several chums experienced other forms of dementia as well,

We were at a 90th birthday party yesterday for a dear friend. He responded to the main speech, made by another delightful friend and neighbour, and his own response speech was measured, seemingly without notes, and recalling matters that happened in the nineteen twenties with such ease, the years just did not fit the eloquence. It was a magnificent, confident, friendly delivery, which deserved the standing ovation from ninety of us!

I have a good chum in the village, who is terrified of such awful conditions of dementia, and she and her husband now do every crossword they can lay their hands on, and compete on the Brain Yoga app at every opportunity! They also do Sudoku with a passion.

Brain Yoga

Mrs O'Blene is an avid reader, having demolished most of the local library books, and she also gets through half a dozen Sudokus each day, some of them after a tincture as well! For my part, I do the Fiendish and Super Fiendish Sudokus, but the latter may take me three weeks a pop, as I don't want to fill in the possibles, and have do the whole thing in my head...(which can easily ache after a while staring at the same combinations and trying to remember them, especially after said tinctures with Mrs O'Blene...)!

But all this doesn't help dear old Terry now, and my heart goes out to him, his family and his friends. I always liked his gentler delivery in some of his Monty Python sketches, but the Mr Creosote scene, which he directed, was a masterpiece fit for recall at any time one sees a tattooed gutbucket gobbling down an undercooked triple burger with quadruple fries and a jug of full-fat Coke.

It must be so cruel that a man who definitely hasn't sat round on his arse all day, finishes up feeling like this. Keep going as long as you can Mr Jones, you have a lot of friends rooting for you.