I lay awake for much of
the night listening to the rain on the window. When it eventually stopped (at
half past five) “Daddy’s Little Angel TM” went for a
tiddle and Pogo started screaming. Much as I love him, I’m so glad he lives
with his mummy these days.
Brekkie
was entertaining this morning; “Darcie Waa Waa TM” had banana
porridge which (according to the packet) contained banana. Would you believe
it? Mind you I am reliably informed the stuff was more like concrete than
brekkie.
We settled the dogs in
the kitchen and “er indoors TM” drove us down to Dad’s house
where the tribe gathered. Because of the funeral we opened a rather special
bottle of whisky that Dad had in the cupboard; when else would we have opened
it? I must admit I’d been looking forward to trying it … and it was bloody
awful. The stuff sells at eighty-five
quid a bottle; it really was foul.
The hearse arrived, and
we drove up to the crematorium. The place was filled, and Jonathon
Mendenhall gave a very good eulogy. From there it was all down to the East Hastings
Angling Club for the wake. The people at the angling club put on a really good
spread… The day flew by in something of a haze.
It was good to catch up
with cousins and aunts and uncles; it’s such a shame that we only meet up at funerals
these days…
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