We made it to Haysbridge by 8 o clock Saturday morning with Col as our gallant chauffeur and sadly minus Ken who is not at all well. And we (Col and me) later made it to the annual dinner of the Treasure Hunters, on Saturday night. The others went to bed early. And we were so exhausted we didn't make it back to Haysbridge till 8.30 Sunday - but we were still in plenty of time - got our seats and had a cup of tea before it started.
Bea has sent us a wonderful Betjemanesque poem about the lobster pot - and I think it will appear in The Captain's Log. His blog has a much higher readership than mine so we feel it should go there.
Bea is now our only aunt.
Every generation has gone through this - and found it just as startling and difficult to cope with. Which is because getting old and dying was not meant to happen to us. We were made to live forever.
Today is a hospital visit (moi - lung test), and then I have to tackle my first pile of paperwork from the Butterfliers. I am hoping that it will start to make sense as I begin to do it.
If not, will I be responsible for the sudden extinction of the Butterfly in Sussex!