Day 100

Have got over my homesickness. Scotland who? We had a great night out at Kilroy's again where I explained to the two waiters (Hari and Sankar) the convuluted, complicated and illegal plan of adopting them, employing them, marrying them... in order to secure them a UK visa and an opportunity. They earn nothing and are desperate to get out. When I suggested they tried the civil partnership route and marry each other, I have never seen such panic-stricken expressions - apart from when I told my Dad I had quit university for the second time and was now happily working at the Odeon in Ayr full-time. There is no homosexuality here (yeah,ok) and it is seen as a a forbidden, heinous and ridiculous concept. I could weep with sadness and frustration. One of them is clearly gay anyway (Hari, my favourite, natch) and I truly believe he would be much happier doing some light cleaning for me during the day, dog-walking for Gan Gan and then getting a lift to the Polo Lounge in the evenings. I'm working on him. This way he gets a 12 month visa as my 'domestic help' and then, if I don't sexually or physically abuse him too much, he gets to apply to stay in the UK (I've done the research). But after the year is up, he doesn't have to stay in our little semi in Eaglesham with us, it might be boring for him - am thinking my wonderful and wealthy best mate Derek might employ him lucratively as a cute naked butler and then all boxes are finally and happily ticked for us all.

We spent the former part of Saturday with our charity celebrating the lives of 200 local children by having a picnic with games in a local village. Now by 'picnic', I was expecting Bloody Mary's, Pimm's, sandwiches, strawberries and a scotch egg. All served on a tartan travelling rug with frosted glasses and from a wicker basket. Or at the very least , I expected to be sitting in the park on a black binbag with my friends drinking warm Cava out a Sainsbury's bag and eating Dairylea Dunkers. I nearly brought a camping chair.

I was sorely disappointed. 'Picnic' doesn't translate well. The whole event was staged in the small, restrictive grounds of a temple with barren gardens, no shade and no toilets. Anyway, we braved the heat (35 degrees) and the 10 rounds of 'Tunnel Ball' (a pretty rubbish Australian playground game that am sure originates from torturing Aborigines) and left before the lukewarm black lentils and rice were served. Was glad I brought my own iced water, sunblock and a pleasant and optimistic face.

A happy 100th day spent on the sub Continent and a pat on the back all round for lasting this far. I have realised the enormity of what we have achieved and how proud I am of my daughters for enduring this ridiculous adventure. We spent the evening eating and drinking with the local restaurant owner and his wife (an interesting and liberal mix of Muslim Indonesian and Hindu Indian) and their delightful but equally shy 8 year old daughter. We taught them all about the welfare state, aggressively at times (no Tony Benn, it was never well fair...) and yet with animation, pride and excitement the rest of the time. They were duly astounded that a government would actively and deliberately pay its citizens for being poor, ill, disabled.......addicted, lazy, a bit crap... but after a while of rabbiting on, I started to revisit and believe the principles again and ended up defending this wonderful system to the hilt. As usual when drinking AND debating, it demands too much of my little brain and I forget what I was arguing about in the first place, and what was my original point again? So we all agreed it was utter nonsense to pay people for doing nothing, the system used to have a reasonable purpose but society had changed, it was now outdated and had ceased to function effectively and we left happy. Pleased with my preaching, I returned home to find Black Dog mooching about on our doorstep, and I had the brainwave of bringing him in for a bath. We started gently, pressing a warm cloth on his head and steadily introducing more and more water. But after a few minutes, like most things in life, I get bored with method, discipline and routine and threw the whole bucket of soapy water over his head. He went mad, yelping, wriggling and started chewing our metal grills to get out and escaped into the night. Rufus was fuming and spent the best part of an hour trying to coax him back in.

Am getting my hair highlighted again tomorrow and can't wait to get back to a more normal appearance.