We had a family get-together recently. It was held in leafy Warwickshire and it was good to see everyone. Some of the faces I had not seen since Grannie’s funeral.
It was held in a very picturesque village near where the Battle Of Edge Hill was fought – there were Plough and Furrow markings in the sun-scalded meadows and the heat was very present.
We drove there using Dad’s Taxi and arrived in good time; my brother and sister were there, having arrived the night before. I met a companion dog called Bertie…
Saturday was spent in the Village Hall playing indoor Curling. It was a11y compliant and my back thanked that. We lost.
We received the wooden spoon but it was definitely the taking part that mattered – it was great to see how the younger batch of B* have grown in confidence and stature since our last meeting.
I forget who won – we just lost…
We then went over to The Rose 7 Crown and had a great supper – Mediterranean in style, it was very filling and I really enjoyed it. We settled our bill and then made quick-sharp up the steepest hill I have climbed after a few pints.
Sunday: Breakfast of Champions, followed by pulled pork – rounders mayhem. The sun beating down frying all in its glare. I sat rounders out having pulled a mischief during curling and I cheered from the sideline. Hannah tripped fielding and managed to bounce off her medical shoulder. Grazed, but not stopped.
Then, in into the car, and sleep all the way to Sheffield as my family ate all the chocolate. Pyjama’d and rested, I tended to my sunburn and felt the happiest I have for a while – safe in the knowledge that what torments me is fictitious and only an effigy.
This is written on Tuesday, Euro’s (W) tonight; Kathryn is celebrating after we routed Sweden. I hope the legacy of the games inspires my football-mad cousin. Here she is, looking like a pro-baller. Very happy with this photo.
