Ludo, Eric Clapton, And The Boys.

Hullo, peoplefolk. I, sir, am blumin' knackered.
This is the part where I could choose to tell you why, or leave you guessing from some obscure, ridiculous hints- but that kid cheats like a bitch at Ludo.
Paps made banana wine. Luffly stuff, chaps. Bit strong.
Anyways, I won an award this week. For excellence and attainment in modern foreign languages. So thanks, Pat Neale! I owe you one, man. This was at a presentation evening, which I had to be at (Head Girl and whatnot), and let me tell you- between you and me- I took every ounce of effort to smile at so many grumpy parents who didn't want to be there.
If I Saw You In Heaven, Eric Clapton. Lord above, it makes me cry. He lives over the beach at Porth Kidney. Porth Kidney is my favourite place in the whole world. Now, I must make this a little bit more serious. Just this once. I'm not sure if that's what the boys would have wanted, though. So I'll try to keep it light.
Joe and Lou are twenty tomorrow. If I Saw You In Heaven- paps still can't listen to it. The boys passed away as babies, and the whole thing deeply upset my parents- as you can imagine. But we grew up always knowing their names like older brothers, and I think they'd have been a right laugh, expecially if they'd turned out anything like paps. Maybe we'd have had to have put up with spiders being thrown at us and other assorted laddish traits, still...wherever they are now, I'm sure they're doing just fine. And although I might not have known them in life, I think I know them all the better for the thought over the years. So, if I forget to say it tomorrow- happy birthday, guys. Don't drink too much.

-Daphne.