Every year my uncle hosts a Sunday lunch party to which he invites friends and family from all over the country. He plans it to coincide with the annual gala concert by Dunvant Male Voice Choir; many of his guests attend the concert and eat out afterwards. My uncle, who is nearly 82, has now extended the weekend to include a meal in his favourite restaurant on the Friday night too, and that's where Husband and I went last night.
At some point during the evening, my uncle mentioned that he wasn't fond of whisky - his preferred drink is champagne. I said, in that case, he couldn't really be a member of the family - his mother, my gran, was partial to a wee dram of the hard stuff, as were most of her family. He retorted that I must be even more of an outcast as I don't drink at all. I agreed that I often wonder if I could be a changeling as i certainly don't have the family talking gene.
It was bedlam in the restaurant last night, full as it was of my relatives (all older than me). They were doing that everyone talking, no-one listening thing, that they all enjoy so much.
I really don't know what happened to me.