to those who went before

Today Flora chops and I went for a walk. She had stayed the night at mum and dad's allowing Cute Cheeks & I to go out and make whoopee. The fact that we went to a pub last frequented pre MCC that had now undergone a change to turn it from hip to hic was an unfortunate start. We then went to another pub that we had again last frequented pre MCC when we had enjoyed a very pleasant time in the car park (and it wasn't the view of the car park). Last night we found ourselves in a fine seat in the pub in front of an open fire that made us realise our lack of sleep from dear MCC insisting she needs to see us through the night was sending us to sleep...... In an effort to rouse ourselves we rushed into the car park to meet former glories only to be met by a temperature dip of -3. We skipped the view.

Anyhow there I was at my dear parents this morning and I fully intended to go to the magnificent Clumber Park with MCC only to realise I was in the wrong car and therefore did not have my walking boots, so..... I decided a walk around my old stomping ground with MCC - showing her the sights of my greatest conquests etc, was in order.

Needless to say after my yabbering on about this moment and that moment she did the right thing and went to sleep despite, I may add, her having a full night sleep last night - a feat she never manages at home.....

On my walk I had a lot of moments. I found myself at the park I virtually never left from the age of 10 to 16. In the stillness of a crisp January morning I uttered pleasantries to my friends as though they were there with me. The park was alive to my voice and I swear knew me.

I wandered on to the playing fields where our Ben, my grown up son, played through the ranks for his football team. I rang him up there and then and told him how much I loved him. He told me he needed to get off the phone as he had a hangover, but nonetheless......

And I went to the cemetery to introduce Flora to my precious Grandad and Grandma. She thought they were rather quiet.....

Grandad is the man my book On Ashover Hill is loosely based on. He died rather young but for the time I knew him, I adored him. I still speak to him. I think he is my Angel.

A day of reflection and I feel all the better for it.

Big kisses to all!

A

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