Here’s to minding our friendships

"...this particular portmanteau refers to the gloriously lazy, hazy period of December 26 to Dec 30 – so we are slap bang in the middle of it right now, like little piggies in blankets..."

"“Bygob, if it isn’t young Sheelagh, back from the big schmoke, here to help her ailing father save the family farm,” [the elderly man] says, helpfully for the audience."

These can be individualised according to your own family dynamics and dysfunction

"It’s the law for magazine columnists to do these, and who am I to go against tradition?"

"A long, long time ago, I used to be pretty good at witty retorts and sassy comebacks if someone was being a jerk. Alas, age, hormones, and the realisation that the effort of the perfectly-timed bon mot is mostly wasted on morons have dulled my fervour for backchat."

"Here, we can stroll, and loll, and mess, and chat. We can play cards waiting for some lovely waitress to present us with grub, we can devise silly games and competitions to determine who gets to choose where we have lunch. We can do nothing, together."

"I find, funnily enough, the pose is hard to pull off when one boob flies free - swing low, sweet chariot - while the other one is still imprisoned in spandex. It puts the balance off a bit..."

"They create an environment of solace, and acceptance, there is a sense of peace there. And I don’t know how they do it, but there’s no ‘hospital smell’."

"The game couldn’t start until the dad finished berating the guy who looked after the property because the pool temperature wasn’t satisfactory. Big thick head on him, like a spoiled brat."