Grandma's unladylike behaviour!
We were returning on Sunday (Father's Day) from Malvern, yet again; this time from the 'Three Counties Show' - farming and the countryside, both of which are fast disappearing or becoming so sanitized as to be a joke, and an immeasurable sadness. Three days of interviewing and photography, camping in the lee of the magical Malvern Hills, wondering what it must have been like thousand of years ago to have lived under the stars and gazed at night into a dark void - England and the Severn Valley to the east and distant Wales to the west. Not a pinprick of light all those centuries ago, though that mattered less perhaps on the night of the summer solstice.
Driving home, bemused from the twelve-hour days, I take a call from our daughter on my new mobile (not lost yet!) inviting us to a father's day tea with her and our son-in-law and their three children. What was not made clear was that we were to participate in a family football (soccer) match - all except Grandpa who was to be official photographer and maintain pitch discipline.
That left six of us, two teams: I was on 7-year-old D's side and told by him that I was to be striker and to SCORE GOALS. Not a chance; this 71-year-old body creaks and groans with age. Entering into the spirit of things, as one must for one's grandchildren, I feebly kicked the ball off the pitch, or hit the goal posts. And then second wind; a GOAL! And another; five in all. I am afraid I became most unladylike, punching the air and shrieking "YES!!" with great fervour as each ball rocketed into the net. In my younger days I would have cartwheeled across the lawn, or attempted a back-flip. How mad can you get? I slept like the proverbial log but oh golly, was I stiff next morning.
Meanwhile, I again apologise for my lack of posts, and paucity of comments on the blogs of my kind followers. Such a fraught time at present, upon which I will report in due course. The football shenanigans were as a breath of fresh air. I wonder what July 5th holds in store - a village picnic to which the family are coming; we personally will celebrate 40 years of living in our beloved house which we have painstakingly renovated; though there is still so much to do. Football on the Village Green is likely, but I will leave all that to the young ones, and sit beneath the chestnut tree opposite our house, eat salad from the garden, and cheese, and sip a glass or two of cold white wine. And reminisce.
our house in June 1969, just purchased at auction