Reflections

Why post a picture of a funeral director’s window? Well, apart from the times I’ve been otherwise engaged, there has been much talk of our mother’s funeral: the hymns, the prayers, the tunes for the pipes . The bed and breakfast places; the journeys; in my case the cat sitter. We are getting there.

In other news, I went to my patchwork class. I started it last week. I started sewing some fabric around templates. I hope to sew a ‘granny’s garden’ of hexagons together. If I ever finish it, I will let you know! I’m slow.

Afterwards, I met K from the poetry class, at the museum. We’d agreed to go for a walk, and the sun had agreed to shine. Walked up to Callowell Farm and the Farmhill estate (one of my lockdown walk routes) then made a detour to show K the anti-slavery arch built in 1834, unique in its kind in the Uk. Back up the hill we went, then down over Callowell fields to Stratford park. The revamped leisure centre cafe didn’t look too great in its range of offerings for the gluten-intolerant, so we went to Star Anise, which is a very different kettle of gluten free fish and chips. We sat outside and talked about writing while we ate.

Then the phone started ringing, and I got a text about a booking and nearly replied ‘yes, go ahead’ thinking it was about a B&B in Argyll, when actually it was about a putative holiday in the Caribbean next year!

Popped in to see V in the shop where she works. Popped into a few charity shops. Bought Funeral Shoes and some Orla Kiely coffee cups. Bought a book for 50 pence. Walked home. Almost 16,000 steps today!

Since then, I’ve been booking the train and so on. Worried that I’ll make a mistake with the dates. Looking forward to seeing my family again, though under sad circumstances.