Don't forget the aubergines!

Oops! I'll be getting the sack from the alarm duties... failed to put it on again this morning. That's twice in about 30 years, but twice too close together... Mind you, JR is a fast mover when needs must.

I went to a funeral this morning with Uncle A. She was the wife of the minister at the church in the 60s when I used to go was made to go. I left the town in 68 to go to college, so hadn't seen the family since possibly 64/65. The kids were slightly younger than us, and so we didn't really know them as pals. But my parents were great friends with them.

They moved to Edinburgh when he retired and renewed their friendship with my parents, and indeed, the minister officiated at my mother's funeral. And so I felt I should go.

Not having seen them for decades, when they came in to the church I immediately recognised the girls. Mind you, in the circumstances, it was obvious who they were. The brother had long flowing brown hair like that chap who stomps around the coast with his hair being swept into his face while he tries to talk to the camera. And the temples were white. I would not have recognised him, as he was just a cute wee lad that we ignored anyway.

I decided to stay for the cuppa after the service, in order to just speak to the family - our parents were great friends, after all. And I was possibly the only connection from the town where they ministered for 30 years. The two girls recognised me. One assumed Uncle A was my brother, recognising the family likeness (Uncle A is wearing well!). Their brother steadfastly stayed at the table and ate his lunch, didn't mingle.

The one time I visited their mother, in the 80s, I gathered that the boy was - how shall I say it - a bit of a disappointment. The girls were talented and successful in life. But 'John' (as I shall call him) had 'lost his way'. Perhaps that was why he didn't get up and go the church door to shake hands with folk leaving.

I wanted to speak to him before I left. And so I went over to the table, shook his hand, introduced myself and offered my condolences, and babbled on about how I hadn't recognised him after all these years, but had recognised the girls.

Poor chap was taken aback, tried to speak, but I carried on. Last time I'd seen him he was this high (indicating two feet high).

He was grinning broadly throughout, and when I'd finished he said,

'No wonder you didn't recognise me. I'm not him.'

Eeek! He was one of the sister's hubbies. No, not one of the sister's hubbies. He was the hubby of one of the sisters. She only had one. We had a good laugh, thank goodness, and as I made a not very dignified but hasty retreat, we waved cheerily at each other across the room.

Actually, I would not have recognised 'John' anyway, as he was 'not good with crowds' and was skulking around in the background somewhere. And the girls said he was 'huge'.

Uncle A and I strolled home in the sunshine and I bought aubergines as per instructions today as JR flew out the door this morning, late.

I popped into town on the bus. Took a few shots, came home. Had two coffees. Lay down. Funerals are sad and stressful. But I'm glad I made the effort.