I haven’t heard what the Scottish Nationalist’s view on the date of the referendum is. A couple of weeks ago Nicolas Turgeon was saying that a June referendum would be too close to the Scottish parliament elections. While it goes against the grain to agree with anything the demon spawn of Wee Jimmie Crankie and Mrs Rab C Nesbitt, she does have a point. How confusing will it be for the electorate when the SNP is against the Westminster government for the Scottish elections, but with it for the referendum?

Something that came up in conversation last week was people who claim not to like any fruit and/or vegetables. There is a huge spectrum of fruit and vegetables with a whole range of tastes. Is it really possible to dislike every one?

For example, I don't like pineapple. But, as far as my experience goes, the only fruit that tastes like a pineapple is a pineapple. I will eat pretty much anything else. Except pears, if I can avoid them. Something about the texture and taste that I don’t like.

I wrote to my bank last week asking them to close a couple of little-used accounts. The response was "we can’t do this because we don't have a copy of your signature on file". Really? What happened to the specimen signature I provided a few years ago when you made a similar assertion? And if you don't have a record of my signature, how would you tell that any cheques on my account are signed by me?

I went to one of the regular organ concerts last week. He was amazingly good – one of the best I've seen, and a great programme of music. Of course, my judgement may have been influenced by a couple of the pieces he played (but probably not; my colleague also thought he was really good, as did her 10-year old daughter who loved the concert).

Many many years ago when I was knee-high to a grasshopper there was a TV series called Owen MD. I know nothing about the programme (couldn't even tell you whether it was a US or UK series) but I loved the theme tune.

Then in the second half he played my favourite song of all time.

We visited the Aged at the weekend. They’ve recently had a new kitchen fitted so we made the appropriate ooh and aah noises. The kitchen refurbishment included a washing machine, and they gave us their old one – to replace CGF’s which is nearing the end of its life. They also gave us first dibs on the various crockery etc. items that they were getting rid of. We kept quiet about the fact that some of the items in the “throwing out” pile were things we had given them in the first place.

The Aged has recently had a new knee fitted, so was relatively immobile – and tired from the painkillers. He apologised that he wasn’t his usual self but I hadn’t noticed much difference!

I was the dutiful son, and got the power wash out and cleaned the path and part of the patio (it’s a huge patio; I only had so much time). It was beginning to get slippery from the accumulated muck, and so needed doing from a health and safety aspect – they are both approaching 80, after all. And it was fun and satisfying.

We also made some preliminary plans for The Aged’s significant birthday later this year – well, we came up with a first-cut invitation list. By lucky coincidence, the number of invitations (and the number we expect to accept) is within the range The Aged has booked at the venue.

There was some discussion over whether we should send “save the day” cards, but I vetoed that idea on the grounds that it is silly. If you’re going to send a “save the day” you might just as well send an invitation.

We got back to Eastleigh about lunch time Sunday. In the afternoon I installed the replacement washing machine, and took the old one to the tip. I turned to one of the operatives to ask where I should put it – he just grabbed it by the mains lead and dragged it across the yard as if it were a dog.