I Married A Clan

As you may have gathered, my beloved Daddy-In-Law passed away about ten days ago. It had been expected for several months, but was still a horrible shock when it finally happened. The cremation was set for Wednesday, so we flew to Bristol on Monday, and returned to Madrid yesterday (Thursday). And we had a fantastic time. I think the DIL would have approved.

Here's the thing, see. When I married MamaDuck, I knew she came from a large family, and it did take several years to get my head round this. The Duck has six siblings, and I met them all and came to know them, their better halves and their ever-growing collection of offspring in the first few years of our marriage. I don't think I met any of the DIL's siblings until about ten years ago, and there's five of them and of course they too have assorted offspring and grand-offspring of their own.

The DIL was born and raised in Scotland, though he spent most of his adult life in England. He enjoyed his collection of malt whiskies, was admired, respected and loved by everyone who knew him well. He was actually one of the nicest guys you could ever hope to meet. And he could play a mean game of snooker or pool.

So, all of his siblings and their other halves (where applicable, may contain nuts), and some of their kids showed up, along with all of his surviving kids, other halves and offspring who could make it were in Brizzle to say goodbye to him.

Nobody would dispute that Bill Blackie Snr was the Chieftain of this clan, and I feel grateful and honoured to be a part of it. We terrify restaurants and bars wherever we go. It all sounds a bit Scottish, but I don't actually think I ever saw the Auld Geezer in a kilt.

So, all that above wasn't really what I wanted to write aboot. I'll do another post tomorrow about our trip, but for now, I'll just say 'Crivens, yer deed already, ye cannae die agin, Bill!'

And I'll see you later, William Somerville Blackie.