I MIGHT be a little fanciful, a bit of a dreamer, but I know that England is the ‘bestest’ country in the world. I can’t think of anywhere else I would rather live – and I have been to lots of beautiful places.

Have I been brainwashed? Possibly!

It might be a bit true, because my mum and dad thought the same thing.

My dad was inordinately proud of his country and when we were kids he ensured that we always stood to attention whenever the National Anthem was played on the radio.

Now, I am not saying that there are no other countries almost as good but, all in all, we are the tops.

We are the one that other countries model themselves and their justice systems on.

And if, when you are abroad, people ask where are you from and you say England, there is that nod of the head that confers on you their approval and their respect.

We as a country have been, and still are, defenders of the faith, upholders of the law, protectors of the persecuted.

Now, I think that’s enough flag waving for one day.

I have been to-ing and fro-ing all this week, as Bill has been in Royal Blackburn Hospital, with a complaint that ‘he dinna care to talk about’ while one of my friends has been in Chorley Hospital, having had a slight stroke.

I’m glad to say both are OK. I must admit it has made me appreciate how lucky we are in having such a comprehensive health service.

If there is an accident, within minutes an ambulance is there at the scene, complete with skilled staff who are also very pleasant, and these two qualities combined put you at ease and go a long way to making a frightening situation bearable.

We don’t really appreciate the health service as much as we should.

I can remember my mum debating whether to call the doctor or not as, then, each visit had to be paid for; I think we paid about 5s when the ‘doctor’s man’ called on a Friday.