Its drafty here

Did I mention that my mum wanted her three children to each read out our memories of her dad at his funeral on Friday. Today she had a meeting with the Funeral Director ( a fellow Rotarian) who suggested as we will be pushed for time we should have one reading of our collective memories. So muggins has been charged with the task of writing these memories up. Mother has spoken to T and I spoke to D who has yet to come back to me with his memories.

so I have done a first draft of memories, I thought I would try it out on you lucky lot. I have decided, without conferring with the brothers, that instead of writing it as though I am describing memories to people who don't know him (we all do). I am doing it as though this is just another visit where we reminisce about the past. See what you think, does this work. your

feed back would be appreciated.





Hello Grandpa Bill,


Are you awake?


It’s LiR and I have D and T with me, we have been talking about the things we remember from when we were children. Do you remember all those times we went with you when you walked your dog Candy through woodlands and along winding farm tracks. Do you remember the treats you always carried in your pockets, there were dog biscuits for Candy and foxes glacier mints for the rest of us. As we walked along you would tell us things, sometimes it was about the countryside around us and other times your adventures on your travels. T has been remembering the humour in your stories, I always liked to hear about the time when you were stopped from boarding a plane after a visit to India, you had gone so brown that they thought you were a native.


In your younger days with your love of gardening you always had that tanned weather beaten colour, unlike these last years when you lost most of that colour through being stuck inside so much. But wasn’t it lovely for you to sit in the sun lounge when you were living at Oak Mount. Do you remember that day when a bird got inside and couldn’t escape, I was so afraid that you would have a panic attack with the fear of birds that you always had but you were brave and allowed me to encourage him to the open window.


When we were children and we stayed with you and Granny Pat, you spent a lot of time tending your garden, it was always bright with flowers, but the brightest of them all were the marigolds, proper ones not like those French ones you see so much now. We all remember sitting quietly while you watched your favourite Western Films, or if it wasn’t westerns you liked to watch Top of the pops but your favourite bit was always when those dancing girls ‘Pans People’ were dancing to the latest hit.


After you retired and moved down to the middle of nowhere, deep in the heart of Dorset , you had your work cut out for you in the form of pesky moles. You tried everything known to man to get them out of your vegetable garden. Mind you I am sure us children caused as much damage to your garden as the moles did. If we were not building a camp out of bits of wood we were chasing butterflies with our nets.


By the time you moved to Village we were all growing up and doing our own thing so we didn’t see you so much anymore. But just because we didn’t visit so often didn’t mean you were forgotten, just as you won’t be forgotten now. We all have children of our own now and you are a great grandpa to DC, OJ, ET, JA, HM, H and E. As well as those little boys in America, Uncle Rick's grand children through his adopted daughters A and S.
Grandpa Bill your memory will always live on in our hearts and in the pictures you created with your eye for detail in every painting you did. I am sure each of us will visit with you again soon so for now sleep in peace until you feel the touch on your arm to let you know we are here once again.


Your loving grandchildren LiR (Nellie as only you could call me) D and T.

Taking a drive

It has been a good day, a long day, a very busy day. When I left work the sun was shining. I set off for home windows down, wind blowing my hair I considered taking a different route home. I thought of going over the hill, I love the views from up there, so much nicer than following the motorway as it snakes along the coast and past The City before heading slightly inland to pass the town where I live. I thought about it but not for long, not when I thought of the traffic jam that would greet me as I descended from the hill to pass the creek that comes almost to the centre of town. That traffic jam would be worse than the heavy traffic trying to get through the road works.

So instead of taking the scenic route I chose the usual motorway drive. Joining the A road speeding towards the motorway, swinging around the bend before the two roads merge. Suddenly I see it, slamming on the brakes so as not to hit it. All these red eyes glaring at me daring me not to stop. Then I heard it, the traffic news on the radio.

'heavy traffic through the road works. There is a broken down crane near junction ** and a broken down vehicle on the slip road at junction**. The tail backs reach as far as the A*'.

Normally I would just sit it out inching my way along among all the other vehicles. But not today, today I decide to take a detour, instead of moving along with the traffic I get in line for the first slip road the one that leads onto the Island. But instead of turning left I turn inland past the retail park through the residential area, onto the side of the hill. There is an avenue that winds its way up the steep side of the hill. Joining the queue waiting at the top I notice the surprising view in my mirror. On either side I see houses and trees but in my rear view mirror the view is a clear blue sea far below where I am now.

Reaching the summit at last I can travel at more than a crawl, passing the pub where I have met several of my dates including both swinger and Thomas. Another mile and the road forks at the roundabout, but on this occassion instead of the road with views over the harbour and city I take the road that branches out into the countryside. Descending I can see the white walls of a local MOD establishment nestling among the trees over to the right. This get me thinking about a post Marmitetoasty did showing photos of a local village that belongs entirely to one man. On a whim on this sunlit evening I turn right following the signs into the village. Here I recognise a number of the cottages she had taken pictures of. All diferent all with so much character unlike our urban dwellings. I wish I could have taken the time to stop and wander along taking some pictures of my own. It is easy to imagine the history that these buildings have.

Reluctantly I turn my little car aound and head back towards home. Before long I find myself once again in a queue of traffic. I notice the names of the houses and businesses along the way. Chestnut cattery, Mud Island Nurseries and Foxglove cottage. Gazing at these houses set back from the road it takes me back to my childhood growing up in a Kent village. Memories of apple scrumping, climping trees, playing among the hop vines, fishing, picking bluebells. Of school holidays where we went off in the morning on our bikes and came home hungry and tired in time for tea.

Finally I reach home an hour and ten minutes after leaving work. I notice that PB has arrived before me but I don't care because I enjoyed my drive. I am home, happy, relaxed and smiling. Everyone is excited, JA is packing ready for his activity weekend away. OJ nonly has one more exam then he is planning to go camping with college friends. DA is looking for another job, his employers announced today that there are going to be 900 redundancies. My mum has now got her new car, she has also been packing as she is off to France with her friends from the Rotary Club tomorrow morning.

I have decided that after much deliberating, I will not be going to meet Lotto for a drink at his hotel next Tuesday. He knows how I feel and won't put pressure on me but he knew my resolve was wavering. The more days that passed with no word from Romeo the more I wavered. But I know now that I won't be wavering anymore.