Smelling the roses
p. I’m back, feeling—as I had hoped—rested, relaxed and rejuvenated. It’s amazing how even a few days in a different environment, with lovely scenery, good food and drink, no phone, computer or TV can work wonders. We had a wonderful slightly-less-than-a-week, first at my uncle and aunt’s house in Bath for their ruby wedding anniversary party, and then on the Somerset/Devon borders for a spot of R & R and walking.
p. The party was wonderful; my uncle and aunt had got their cine film of their wedding transferred to video, so we all had a great time howling with incredulous laughter at the ludicrous pom-pom headresses that the bridesmaids (including my mum) had to wear. That aside, it was wonderful to see footage of my granny and grandad (who died before I was born), and even my great-grandmother. It’s so strange and amazing to see your parents and relatives before you even were. My mum is younger than my uncle, and she said that she was devastated when he got married and left home. She had just left school, her beloved big brother was gone, and she felt a bit lost—she looked it in the film, too. A few weeks later, my aunt’s sister (also a younger sibling) took her along to a youth group, where she met the suave sophisticate (ha!) who later became my dad, so it was quite a momentous time from my point of view. While we were away, it was also my and Mr. Bsag’s third wedding anniversary—only 37 more to go until we get to laugh at our outfits with our yet-to-be-born neices and nephews…
