Forgive me, I was distracted last night by David and chocolate.
What I was going to tell you was that the reason Adam suggested I start blogging was to publicise my novel. My novel! I still can't believe that I've actually written a whole book. It's all about one year in my life, a fairly momentous year that began with my 50th birthday and the arrival in the post of my decree absolute.
What I thought was going to be a year from hell actually turned into ... well, you'll have to read the book to find out! Although the fact that I'm here today and writing about it might suggest that it wasn't as bad as I anticipated.
In spite of the dreadful incident with Great-aunt Millie and the custard slice, Internet Barry and the pork scratchings, and my mistaken belief (only when slightly tipsy I should add in my defence) that I can tango - and my need to demonstrate it.
Not to mention Charlie, the sock-eating dog.
Go on, get a bar of chocolate and share some with me as I tell you all.