The Young Ones

Transporting a 90 year old, with all his accoutrements, from his tiny, overheated, London flat 300 miles to a rambling, drafty Welsh farmhouse with hazardous stairs and awkward doors, a dog, four cats and several young people, is never easy but we have managed to accomplish the feat yet again. My sons and some friends had spent the previous night cooking, eating, drinking, playing board games, cuddling the kitten and making eccentric marzipan figures. All was more or less in order by the time we arrived home, dog walked, cats fed, and washing up in progress.

So, the old man is installed once again and even though the conditions here are not ideal for him, the change of scene, the food, the attention and the company usually succeed in boosting his spirits and no one minds hearing the familiar old jokes and anecdotes over again. Whatever else this 'festive season' means, it is a time for renewing friendship and kinship at the end of another year and the start of a new one.

The Young Ones