Glyn, like Kilroy, is back. No, wait a moment, Kilroy was past tense and evidently Glyn nearly was as well. Chris and Douglas were so sure I was about to knock on the pearly gates to demand an audition that in a matter of a couple of days they had the tafos built, something we’ve been meaning to do for ages but never had the readies. Let me explain. Our town of Vamos, as in the surrounding villages, has a small cemetery with really no way of expansion. Also it is situated over volcanic rock so one is not buried six feet under, holes dug by jack hammers, but safely ensconced in a concrete box on the surface; later possibly covered in marble and inscriptions. I’ve told the guys what I want mine to be. I have pinched it from a book I read about a family of nineteenth century strolling players and, when the head of the family died, his epitaph read “The play is over – Tired he sleeps” which, as a luvvie, I thought really apt and beautiful. We managed to buy a plot in the cemetery (no 27, my birth date) some years ago from a family who had two and were prepared to sell one and, as old age advanced, the cry went up every now and again, “We must get that tafos built.” I suppose the nearest translation to tafos would be sarcophagus but that does sound rather grand. Well, now it is done and there is room for three. Plots are all owned by families and used for generations and to make room for newcomers (or should that be latecomers or late arrivals?) your bones are disinterred, washed and placed in the charnel house, ready for resurrection I suppose, though how they will ever come together again I really don’t know because, when I took a peek into the charnel house, they were just collected in an untidy pile.

The opening line of this Blog was going to be “Jesus doesn’t want me for a sunbeam – not yet anyway.” Actually I would make a pretty lousy crotchety old sunbeam and my opening line was spoilt by a senile 89 year old fundamentalist by the name of Harold Camping who predicted Jesus would return to earth yesterday and that would be the end of the world. Well, Jesus didn’t return and we’re all still here. I couldn’t help wondering where he would materialise and in what time zone. I somehow don’t think he would choose the Middle East again as this time he would have the Muslims to deal with and that, as they say, is a whole other kettle of fish. Anyway, true believers were supposed to be swept up to heaven “raptured” was the word the old fool used. He sent out his message worldwide in broadcasts and on billboards and what is truly frightening is the number of people who believed this religious nonsense. His prediction of course was all based on Biblical texts

"We learn from the Bible that Holy God plans to rescue about 200 million people," says a text on the website of Mr Camping's network, Family Radio Worldwide.

"On the first day of the Day of Judgment (May 21, 2011) they will be caught up (raptured) into Heaven because God had great mercy for them."

Well, let’s see when the next prediction will be. At 87 I doubt somehow it will come from Mister Camping; after all he has failed twice.