I have discovered...

That my mother, at the tender age of sixteen, once dated a Dutchman named Arnaut Groenevelt, whom she met at a ballroom dancing class. As the days and weeks passed in her pursuit of the Foxtrot and the Maxina, the length of her skirt migrated upwards from a demure knee length to the heady heights of the 60s undie-huggers. My grandmother no doubt noticed but, to the immense gratitude of my mother, did not comment.

That I should have a relative who dated someone with such an interesting name is, I feel, an instant source of family prestige. I have been to Palmerston and back this weekend for a family dinner, which was fun, but I'm fair exhausted from hanging out on buses so much. I should really go to bed now. G'night.