There’s nothing better than a surprise. Mrs Harley kept from me on my birthday, last Tuesday, the knowledge that daughter-in-law Lieze was going to pay a visit with wee Cameron. Surprise? Mega-thrill, actually. Sudden, unannounced visit by the grandchild. If you’ve got one, you’ll understand instinctively how I felt. I was reading and writing on my PC when the study door slowly opened, and I needed a long look. It was the welly-boots that convinced me. They had come a 90-minute drive, with snow on the way, and I just found it all so noble and kind of Lieze. The boy had fun in the woods, and helped tip ice off the canvas cover of my row-boat, up by the big pond.

I’m trying to behave the way the physio wants me to. Exercise is so boring, though. And cold packs on swellings is no fun. But the stitches (metal clips) are out, and the scar is, according to the GP’s nurse, a “beauty – no infection. That will fade to nothing.” Hobbling about (what’s new?) on crutches around the house. It’s frustrating, yes. But everywhere I turn there are those worse off. The cold and snow have claimed many victims, and I’m lucky enough to be in a position where I could cancel/clear my entire diary until either I am fit for the fight, or March 30 comes. I will be on the Nightliner/sleeper bus to Yarm and Holmfirth for certain.

Sorry to be shown a negative Facebook comment. Someone has suggested I don’t read the friendly good wishes and probably don’t care. He thinks the messages are “cute” but pointless. Wrong on both counts.

There’s always a point in sending your good thoughts. Receiving a thank you note or any gratitude is not the point though. Giving is all that matters. I read them all right. And I care. But Facebook, in itself, ain’t my thing. I can barely navigate it. Greta manages a professional one for me, and Twitter, so the world and its grandmother can keep up-to-date without necessarily opening websites. I don’t comment on Social Media as a rule. That doesn’t mean I’m unaware of what’s going on. I hope life is being kind to you, Lewis. I send good thoughts.

Will readers of my Facebook get to see all the comments and pix which are appearing in a Group? I hope it’s being linked to the main page, as some of what I’ve seen is really interesting.

Florencia has been digging deep and wide! But enough of the original band pix! They don’t hold entirely happy memories for me – nor for Stuart. Onward and upward. This band, now, is the best I’ve ever fronted. I’m writing on a daily basis, playing piano and guitar most days and recording everything I hum, sing or strum. I hope to get into a studio this year to make a new album of new songs with these guys.

My first friend died yesterday. Aged 69. That’s cruel. We shared hospital wards for much of our childhood. We shared family holidays through the 1950s and 60s. Barry leaves a big family. He touched a lot of people and was a fine graphic artist. The doctors saved him aged 5. Nothing could be done as his heart gave out on a Welsh street in the bitter cold 64 years later. That’s cruel.  I’m finding that friendship seems to matter more and more as we age. T.S. Eliot had a way to say it: “Ridiculous the waste sad time/Stretching before and after…”