I was chatting to my pal and yours, Stella, an inspiration that you should visit if you have not already, yesterday about my mother. I may have spoken about my mother here on other occasions. I’m sorry to bore you with it.

My mother was a Doctor of English (a clever lady who became a bit eccentric in her old age) with a passion for History, particularly the ancient variety. She dragged me (and my father) many, many times around Italy and Greece, excitedly pointing out old bits of rock and explaining the events that had taken place long, long beforehand upon the same ground that our feet stood.

I didn’t study history (I didn’t study much at all, if truth be known) because I could never have lived up to her standards.

But one day I was playing some music from my hero of the time (Ross Wilson – I may have mentioned him too many times here also – sorry) and she walked in. He was singing a song from her own era. His rendition (as you can see and hear) was delivered somewhat tongue-in-cheek, and it occurred to me that she may have found it offensive.

Quite the opposite was, in fact, true. Her eyes lit up like stars and she called to my father, “Darling, come here! Come here! Listen to this! Listen to this!”

It was as if we were back in Athens again and she had found a link to the Trojan Wars.

Eventually she went completely bughouse and forgot who I was.

She forgot who she was too.

But I haven’t. And I miss her.

So I thought I’d play it again for her one more time.

I’ll never smile again until I smile at you
I’ll never laugh again. What good would that do?

For tears would fill my eyes
My heart would realize
That our romance is through

I’ll never love again, I’m so in love with you
I’ll never thrill again, to somebody new

Within my heart
I know I will never start
To smile again
Until I smile at you

And this is my mother’s version Here

But my favourite one (I was a very young dude at this concert) Here