Alone Again (Naturally)

I went to my pub of choice last night, alone, to watch the football. Great game. I hardly spoke two words to anyone save the most excellent of barmen, Jimmy. There was a time when I could not do this, spend time on my own in a bar, but I have learned to be quite happy in my own company. Much as I love all my girls, there is a lot to be said for timeout alone. It's my treat to myself, a time when I can, and do, forget the rest of the world for a few hours. It's much cheaper than therapy, and more fun.

I had the most wonderful (whiskey induced) dream. As I was walking home from my pub of choice I called into another pub I rarely frequent. A quiet, old-time bar. My Da was sitting at a table with one of his pals. He was dressed in his 'going out' clothes, grey trousers, white shirt with cravat, and navy blazer. I sat down and his pal left us alone together. We talked for hours, in between drinks. I told him all about my girls, about me, everything, and he listened and smiled and put his hand on my shoulder. A wonderful night. Twenty eight years gone and I still miss him as much today as I did all those years ago. I like to think I connected with his spirit last night, or was it just the Jameson? Whichever, I woke up smiling.