Comings and Goings.

I’ve been out and about today, negotiating five-way intersections, one-way systems, incompetent drivers, etc, etc. It isn’t really my natural environment since I became a country boy, but I cope well enough. I’ve also gone short on sleep this week, and the priestess – who’s been keeping me company for a couple of weeks – has gone back to the fray of being an old soul in a young body. I miss her and the mornings are lonely. Put those together and I’ve been too tired to think of a blog post today.

But then I came across this old picture and remembered an interesting fact. This is me with my mother (on the right) and my Auntie Hilda.

 

Auntie Hilda was my dad’s youngest sister, and when my mother first started seeing my dad, she discovered that his youngest sister was somebody she’d been friends with as a girl. When my parents separated, the two women had no further contact.

My mother eventually died of cancer in a hospice in Stoke on Trent at 11.20pm. Auntie Hilda died of some respiratory disease in a hospital in Coventry, around fifty miles away, 40 minutes later at midnight.

As for me, I just carried on getting cuter.