There is a tiny church up one of the valleys near here.

I'm beginning to think I have a considerable claim to it – a sort of squatter's rights.

My father is buried in the little graveyard behind it.

Then I got married in it.

My daughter was christened in it.

My mother joined my father in the graveyard [she was dead at the time].

My daughter got married in it.

The grandkids were baptised in it.

The grandkids had their First Communion in it.

Today I trekked my way up there for the grandkids [well, two of ’em anyway] Confirmation.

I'm beginning to wonder what will come next?  There are two more grandkids a so I suppose there will be a couple of Communions and Confirmations before the wheel turns full circle and we are back into weddings again?  Or maybe funerals?

My parents had a double grave up there.  Well, actually they still have as I doubt they have moved.  When my mother died the gravedigger asked which side my father was buried.  I told him I thought it was on the left.  I was wrong.  So having dug the grave on the right hand side and discovering my father in the process he decided to drop my mother on top of him which in a strange way sort of reflected their life together in a surreal sort of way.

So there's a double grave but one half is empty while the other is double-stacked.  The gravedigger said I could have it if I liked seeing as it was vacant and paid for.  I thanked him for his kind offer but said that I wasn't quite ready for it yet.  He told me to tell him when I was ready and he'd bury me there which I thought was kind of him.

So I now consider the place to be a sort of home from home, which is just as well as I am liable to be there for a few thousand years, or until some fucking archeologist digs me up and puts me in a fucking museum.

Puppychild, Laughingboy and their Minder

Oh, and incidentally…..

They did publish the letter wot I wrote about yesterday.

I even got away with using a fake name and address.

Wonders will never cease.