A walk to the graveyard

It's been long since I took even two steps outdoors, but today I did. Weather was nice, warm if you were wearing long sleeves. With the large rollator, Veloped, I ventured to the graveyard around the old church as I suddenly recalled that I had heard that an old good person had recently passed. She was actually even a distant relative. And another connection was her late British (Scottish, I recall) husband whose immaculate English language can be admired in the translation of the book on the church visible in this picture.

But the English language conversation classes that Roy M. held are another story and really my favourite. My heavy American accent that had a slight Southern touch due to my six years in Washington, D.C. amused Roy no end. During the English sessions it was winter time, and the word "sweater" crept naturally to the conversation. I can recall vividly Roy's mockery and loud laughter over my pronunciation of sweater. :-))  I defended myself, and did not give in. Yet we remained friends. And he kept laughing. :-)

Extra. Their grave, where Inkeri M. has recently been buried.