annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary
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Feeling's Mutual
Today was the funeral of Sammie's Auntie L's husband, which I went to out of respect for her and despite the fact that I didn't like him and he didn't like me and neither of us ever bothered to hide it. In the way of funerals, speaking no ill of the dead etc, you'd have thought he was a saint, instead of whatever it is that he was. I found it hard, listening to it all and felt that I'd have to write about him here, though now I'm here the feeling isn't so strong.
But I have to say that when Auntie L wanted to get the internet to enable communication with one of their daughters who's a medic, working and sleeping unpredictable hours, so email would be perfect, he forbade it. She was going to get it anyway till he reminded her that she'd stood in a church, in front of her god and promised to obey him. Yep, that was marriage in the 60s.
In his retirement he grew veg on a commercial scale and sold runner beans to a shop I used to drive past on my way to see Sam in the care home. They also had a lot of plants, very cheap, so I stopped in one day, selected a load and went to pay. Cash only, I only had a card. No cash machine within easy reach. The bloke said take the plants and pay next time you're passing. I will, I said, and in case I forget, PJ you get the beans from is my brother-in-law so you can reach me through him. He's your brother-in-law? Yes. He looks at me and I look at him and he looks at me and we both laugh. He's your brother-in-law - take them, on the house, you've earned them. So it wasn't just me that didn't like him.
No one cried at the funeral. The food was good. I had a big plateful of cheesy savoury stuff then an even bigger plate of sweet scones with cream and jam and some chocolate mousse, then I came home.
I wanted to go for a swim but I couldn't face all the hassle of parking and the tide was out and meh meh meh so I sat in the garden and tried out my new paint pens. I'm glad I did as they need a bit of supplementing with crayons - I used chalk crayons but they create a lot of dust and then need spraying with fixative (cheap hairspray, cost me 89p over ten years ago, still going), so I'll try wax, or even my water colour pencils... hmm. Anyway, this is what I did:
which I didn't mind too much for first go when I was feeling v agitated.
It's my birthday on Thursday. 68. Honestly, who'd have thought it? I was sure I'd die before I reached thirty, but I'm still here. Not even grey haired yet. A few strands. I might dye the ends green for Glasto - I met a lad who'd dyed the ends of his red and it looked good. Though I don't seem to be very curly any more and that was a key feature so maybe I won't. Who am I kidding, of course I won't, far too much effort.
12:30 a.m. - 15.06.22
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