I have been staying in Tenby in Pembrokeshire where I rented a top-floor apartment overlooking the harbour.  It had a large roof terrace, which was big enough to hold a party for twenty, and it was enclosed by a brick wall of midriff height.  This had the advantage that I could walk naked onto it, without my lower half being seen, to have an early morning stretch as I watched the sun rise over the harbour.  One day I even managed to do Downward-Dog.

I was just hours away from catching a flight to Sydney en route to London, when Her Indoors rang in a blind panic from France asking me to bring a blouse and skirt to France.  Hers not mine.  While she was on the phone I vainly searched through her cupboard.  After many minutes on Facetime we tracked down the miscreant items.  Unfortunately it made me 1kg over my baggage allowance and the only way round this was to wear them on the plane.  The skirt is stretched and the blouse is split but at least I made quick friends with the Qantas flight stewards.

Been travelling a bit recently. First off was Sydney where it seemed to be common practice for men to wear dangly crucifix earrings. As I don’t get out much this was a first for me so I had to google it. Apparently, it is either a sign of being a Christian or showing support for the LGBT movement. I could not possibly comment as to why these men wore the earrings, but I know that Charles 1 and Sir Walter Raleigh both wore dangly earrings, and it did not end well for either of them.

As Saturday nights are normally social affairs you do not expect a call from a nursing service.  A call came in from a Sydney number and not recognising it I blocked the number.  Not to be deterred I received a call three minutes again from another Sydney number, so I decided to answer it.  The conversation went like this.

The oldest book I own is Mrs. Beeton’s Household Management, originally published in 1861, but published in many editions even up to 2010.  I know not which edition I own as the flyleaf is missing.  I have not dipped into it for many years but recently my younger daughter’s boyfriend decided he would read it to give her some tips on household management, being a good wife, etc.  I am sure he meant it as a joke but it probably went down as well as me introducing the darling wife when we were newly married as ‘my first wife’.  Ah, the stupidity of young men.  You just can’t beat it.

Not unlike Jeremy Clarkson I seem to have been caught out on my blog ‘My wife the nudist.’ First in the queue is my wife who has reminded me in no uncertain terms that the past is another country and please refrain from sharing the details of our private life with all and sundry. Noted. Second in the queue are readers who think I did not go far enough as they wanted some titillating stories and felt misled by the title of the blog in that they did not get such stories. Some are even threatening to report me to the Australian Competition and Consumer Commission for misleading conduct under Section 18 of the Competition and Consumer Act 2010.

I therefore wish to make an apology. Now that’s over we can move on.

Christmas is a time when family, friends and several generations somehow come together to enjoy themselves.  So one night over the Christmas break we decided to watch a film appealing to all generations namely ‘Elf’ released in 2003.  A children’s comedy, which could not possibly cause offence, or so we thought.  You could not be more wrong.

The Mrs has recently had her 60th birthday with a big bash a week or two ago. It is amazing how many old people can behave badly and the usual suspect flashed her tits again (yes you know who you are and so does everyone else there). It was a bit OTT just to get the barman’s attention though it was a bit of a scrum at times. All I can say is the Festival of Kirsty is now over. At least for another year.

There is an update from the Fetish BDSM network in Queensland.  My Queensland informant, channelling his nephew, tells me that a new fad is the Furries.  People now dress as cats and if they get past the Door Bitch they can enter the fetish club fully clothed so to speak. 

It is amazing what you find in other people’s showers.  Not that I go round poking around in them mind you.  It’s just that occasionally one needs to avail oneself of running water while staying at other people’s places.  So recently I was standing under the hot water, bollock naked so to speak, as I have found it pays to undress before showering.  Although as an aside I recently had a particularly heavy Sunday away with friends and had not realised I was not quite with the world on Monday.  Having abluted in the bathroom I immediately got dressed.  It was only when fully dressed did I realise I had not shaved and showered.