Er, Si!

It was quite a revelation at the weekend to find out that I'm Portuguese. Slightly.

I found out, to be precise, that I have a Portuguese grandmother. Which was quite interesting- I'd always assumed that everyone sat down with their parents at a young age and was told everything there is to know about their ancestry. Obviously that one doesn't happen, but thinking about it there's so much I still don't know about my relatives (on my father's side I only ever met two people, I think).

I suppose that might go some way to explaining my fiery temperament. And my sister's very Mediterranean approach to dinner parties. Although, to be honest, I know absolutely nothing about Portugal.

Of course, it means about as much as wearing green on St Patrick's Day as I've got an Irish grandfather. People will go some way to not be English. Being English in a crowd of English people really isn't interesting. And proclaiming yourself as English isn't very English. No-one wants to be Engligh. Especially after Iraq.

Now, where's my flag?