Anxious bear

Weeza and family came over today and we made a start on the catalogue for the next auction.  And Al closed the shop early so that he could get back after lunch, because they are going on holiday.  Eileen and I will run the shop next week, but not every day and mornings only.  It’s a busy week, actually, with one thing and another – nothing vital but lots of little things.  The main thing I’m going to have to fit in is a lot of organ practice for a funeral on Wednesday, on an organ I’ve never played before.  Every one has a different set of stops and a different feel, I’m not looking forward to it at all.  Especially as the grandsons of the person who has died are very musical.

Something of a mercy dash this evening.  I was just starting to get dinner ready, and then went to get Tilly to have her dinner first.  I went into the cloakroom to wash my hands and there was Barry, Zerlina’s teddy bear.  So off I went to Norwich to return him.  The last thing I wanted was a distressed teddy bear missing his little girl.  Zerlina was asleep when I arrived, but Phil said that she’d be sure to wake during the evening, wanting Barry.  I guess they’d have coped overnight, but it wouldn’t have been easy to get through the whole weekend.

Dilly will celebrate her birthday while they’re away, so I took her presents through this morning to be packed, with a couple of DVDs for the children.  There are a lot of birthdays next month in the family – funnily enough, El’s, Al’s and Ro’s other halves all have birthdays in September, as well as Pugsley at the end of the month.

7 comments on “Anxious bear

  1. Anonymous

    I’ve never been to a funeral. Ever. Cannot imagine attending them regularly, even if it is as an organist. Don’t you find it depressing?


  2. Z

    I do, darling, but you all know that already, so I didn’t mention it.

    Depressing isn’t usually the word – sad, yes. Sometimes very upsetting, such as the young child who died (of natural causes, she was born with many disabilities). I often cry at some point. The worst is when a son (usually) reads a poem or has written a tribute and finds he can’t get through it without breaking down.

    I don’t know how they found the time, Simon. I mean, early September – they hadn’t even got to Christmas yet. El and Al were conceived during the relaxed days of summer and Ro was planned to a careful timescale (ie, not near Christmas or his siblings’ birthdays).

  3. Z

    We do, Helen!

    I know, Mago. They’re very reliable when with their children, but things go badly amiss when they’re left to their own devices.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *


This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.