Not a good (in the sense of cheerful) day today. On the twelfth of July this year we went to the funeral of our old friend Frank. His wife Jenny had, for the last six years nursed Frank, and worked very hard (she was a partner in her firm) to make sure that he had twenty four hour nursing (he was bedridden for the last few years of his life) at home.
Well today we went to Jenny's funeral at Biggleswade. She died of a cerebral haemorage a fortnight ago. The funeral was rather delayed as Jenny had donated her reusable body parts to the medicos for recycling. Although she was around twenty years younger than Frank, she survived him by less than two months. A century or so ago our ancestors would have said that she died of a broken heart, and I'm not sure that they would have been far wrong.
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Sorry, I know this is a bit depressing, so now I'll go on to the three slightly more cheerful aspects of the day.
As we were driving across to Biggleswade we passed, on this side of Bury St. Edmund's, the small vehicle shown in the top picture. It looked like something out of Dr. Who, and we both thought it must contain some alien life form, but as we passed it, I could see that the young man lying almost horizontal inside it was, in fact, vaguely human.
On our way home we decided to make a small detour and have a look at Bourn Post Mill. It is one of the oldest windmills in the country. It has the date 1636 carved on one of the internal beams but may be quite considerably earlier than this. It's a lovely little mill and well worth a visit.
The last snapshot is of supper this evening - cauliflower cheese made with ham, and vegetables. Nursery/Comfort food, but we both felt the better for it.
Goodnight all.
13 comments:
It is clear Jenny was a lady of passion, courage and determination. As a complete stranger she has won my deepest respect and admiration. A fine example of feminine virtuosity.
Taking up your lighter note, the supper was a fine example of culinary virtuosity and the post-mill a great example of historic industrial virtuosity.
By contrast the contents of that inverted silver canoe are probably the most outstanding example of misplaced technical virtu-ASS-ity possible, has the driver had no intelligence regarding the presence of Eastern European vodka-drinking juggernaut drivers on our roads.
You wouldn't be able to scrape him off the road!
Any idea of the make or marque of the silver go-carty object? Is it produced by funeral directors offering free mobile coffins as an incentive to reduce the population and ease the traffic-jams perhaps?
Possibly a Ginns & Gutteridge 1CV maybe? Or a Clive Sinclair C5.1 in conjunction with Co-op Funeral parlours?
Hello Crowbard. Unable to help regarding the maker of the item. If you can imagine a completely enclosed very small Sinclair C5 then you will have quite a good idea of its character. It had a large red rear light back centre, and was doing around 15 m.p.h. up a slight hill. It had a slight variation in its course as if it was pursuing a very regular small (but elongated) zigsag. We could hear no engine noise, which leaves us with the possibilities that it was being pedalled (unlikely I think), or it was battery driven. I'd be a little interested to know the details of it myself - but without any desire whatever to drive one.
Mike and Ann...just caught up. Sorry for the loss.
It seems that you have been as busy as ever with family and friends. Yes, your roses were gorgeous.
Thank you Lori. I know you have both been busy despite the physical problems, which I hope are easing off now for both of you.
I think that the small silvery vehicle must be part of a new initiative to rid our roads of cyclists by a process of natural selection. I fully support this as cyclists are the bane of all road users. Next step in the process is to cull all van drivers (in particular, the git who didn't see fit to give way to me on a roundabout this morning). Ultimately, the roads will be for the exclusive use of motorcyclists. I suspect that I may be alone in this thinking....
Hello Sir Bruin. Whilst I agree that your thinking on the matter of road users is sensible and constructive I personally think that you are not going quite far enough. The roads to be for the use of ALL motorcyclists forsooth!! Why not make it one sensible, reliable motor cyclist, and of a responsible age. And while we're about it why not ban all car users, except perhaps a couple of responsible ones, also of a sensible age group. Then you and I could 'phone each other, agree our routes for the day (at least fifty miles apart) and then there'd be no danger whatever on the roads. Bar possibly that of being struck by lightning on very rare occasions. Problem solved.
P.s. And definitely NO ghastly little Dr. Who type vehicles that might get in our way.
Hang on, how about a careful, considerate elderly female driving a Landrover who always gives way to responsible motorcyclists and sensible car drivers? Can she get out to the shops, at least? So that she can invite said bikers and drivers to parties and be able to supply enough food, that is.
I do enjoy a balanced, carefully reasoned argument Zoe, and, with one small exception yours is examplary- I found the bits about parties provided with good food especially convincing, and I'm sure Sir B. will agree.. In the highly unlikely event of me ever becoming Prime Minister, both you and the Sage will join Steve, Liz, and us on the roads. The Sage qualifies by reason of his driving vintage cars of character and gravitas.
The bit I cannot accept is the phrase 'careful, considerate elderly female'. Still, if we cross the third adjective (elderly indeed!) off, two out of three isn't too bad, and you're in.
I really do think that the comments are the best part of blogging. This blog started off with a very sad funeral, then, by way of a few thoroughly soppy comments, ended up in a delightful fantasy world where only we few (all bloggers) were allowed to infest the roads. Very heartening.
Dearest big Bruv,
Pweez gwant a 'ickkle favour to your snotty 'ickle bruv wot only dwives 300 miles a year 'twixt the Gwange and Oadby village. If I pwomise not to dwive when you is in town, pweez may I continue to dwive here? I will get a mo-bike (Douglas Dwagon-fwy or Sunbeam S7) or use the old land-wover wiv the steerwing wheel in the miggle if that helps! Pweeze, Oh Pweez double pwetty, may I?
CWEEP. I mean CREEP (you've got me at it now). Certainly not. Although these conditions will only apply if either I or Sir Bruin ever become Prime Minister. Or, come to think of it, if ever YOU become Prime Minister, in which case I shall need your permish...thinks... oh alright then.
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