Helter Skelter

Something that I've noticed creeping in with the advancing years is the worrying (and OK, probably annoying to others) habit of unconsciously humming or whistling a little tune whilst engaged in mundane activities. A dishwasher rack to be emptied is seldom done in silence. And strangely enough the tune that is most often employed is a slow air, "For Ireland, I'd not tell her name" which is on one of the Boys of the Lough's albums. I have no idea why this should be: I doubt I've heard it these last ten years. Perhaps I should locate a copy and play it to the delighted (and indeed, captive!) whisky-imbibers at our upcoming tasting. That would be a fine tradition to hand on.
But I digress: today I lunched well. This blipblog will soon resemble the diaries I kept as a child. Received at Christmas, I would assiduously record the school lunch (or "denner" as it was known) until sometime in mid-February when the small pencil would either have become totally blunt or would have become lost. Today, it was mussels. Anyone for a tune?