Mole Field Way

A day trip to Bromsgrove for the funeral of my godmother. I wasn't especially close to her, but she was a good friend of my mum, who also came down with my dad. We used to see more of the family when we were kids and lived an hour or so away, no doubt there are some embarrassing naked paddling pool photos somewhere taken in their back garden.

It's quite possibly 20 years since I have seen her children; the oldest I would have recognised anywhere, the younger two not at all. They seemed fully rounded adults in a way that I don't seem to have achieved.

I had a bit of a walk from the nearest station to the village were they lived where I spotted this sign - my dad is plagued with moles at home.