Last Saturday the girls and I set off for a day trip to Brighton, me to meet up with Sharon and Chaz and them to have a bit of a wander around - to see a place that they had both been to when younger but not for a long time. It was a truly lovely day and I was so full of the happiness of it all, that I almost didn't mind the excruciating delays on the train home. Sunday was all about getting digging in the garden, I was determined to make a start on the area near the door to dig out as much as possible and redistribute the earth to the back of the garden and around. Some of the plants A and I bought have been dug up and some plants rather beaten up, we assume by the foxes. I did more on Monday and was pleased it hadn't rained so I could very on - as it would just be a mud hole. I also said bye to A that morning as she headed off to Kent for some filming for someone's school project. I was super excited for her but also a bit nervous about her heading off without me. She ha...
I met mum and J out of church and popped to the high street to get a couple of best tops. The air was warm but the breeze made it bearable. After a bit of reading in the garden we went for lunch by the sea. A quick catch up with my sister and K over tasty food and then mum and I went for a paddle. Jo had organized a lovely 'outdoor eating experience' not a BBQ at hers and I happily spent a beautiful evening with my family. Mum and I wandered home in the very warm evening air. The sea air was so welcome compared to the stifling heat of London. The next morning I went to church, as I often do, feeling the familiar comfort of the happy memories of my youth. The demographics have changed but some old (really old) faces said hello. I was delighted to be mistaken for mum's granddaughter. Then there was a meal in the church garden which was nice, the feast day of St Peter and St Paul. I narrowly avoided a seafood stir fry. It is nice to know so may people intend to pray for me....
This week started like a very normal week but to my great sadness it changed on Wednesday evening when mum let me know about uncle Michael. I know I was very lucky to have a long lasting connection based on a love of words and theatre with him. Over the years I learned a lot from him and we spent a good number of hours talking about his life, my life, eating good food and watching mostly great theatre. It is with a dragging grief that I didn't add his name onto the email list this morning. And a gutting realisation that the list has once again gotten smaller. It is a small comfort to me that he was on the list though and that, even though he changed his email address an inexplicable number of times, I think he would have been in the loop about my life and I hope very much he was proud of me living it. I wonder about the telling of the rest of the week. Perhaps just to say that the girls were good at revising around their work commitments,...
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