Happy round-table breakfast conversation between eight good friends this morning, followed by an atmospheric westward drive through North Yorkshire fog, aware of the occasional looming of the bones of ancient abbeys and long-lost husbandry in their granges.
RDT’s funeral at 1pm where his smile beamed over hundreds who loved and admired him as much as we did. And two of his eloquent grandchildren made everyone proud to know them.
Another hundred miles southwards. Another meal. Another friend – who’s the more special for putting up with us when we’re sleepy – a not uncommon state of affairs these days.
Another couple of hundred miles tomorrow. Long looked forward to visits with more friends, and on to my parents before, late in the day, I set a match again to our log stove at home. And there, all being well, I shall fall asleep in my chair, where dreams will thankfully re-echo a whirlwind few days.