Am I still English?

Holy crap. I've just worked it out - in another year I'll have spent more of my life in Israel than in England. Yep, taking into account the first five years of my life, which were spent in the very exotic Hong Kong (mmm, hence my love affair with the Far East?), years 5 to 21 were spent in England, making 16 years in total. After Friday's post, you might have realised that I'm now into my 16th year in the Holy Land. So, this time next year I'll getting stuck into year No. 17. Feckin' hell.

Am I about to cross some imaginary line that says I will no longer be English? Should I hide away the cucumber sandwiches, the cricket bat and ball, the top hat and tails? Should my freshly pressed copy of The Times be ripped to shreds and thrown, spiffingly, on the barbie? Should it fuck! Whatever the British Embassy might say, I'm English and always will be. Okay, I might never have seen Big Brother or heard a Charlotte Church (who?) song, but ain't that a good thing?

God save yer Queenie!