It’s very quiet. Weeza and Phil were due to catch the 4.17 train from Diss, so Wink dropped them off on her way back home. They all need some weekend time for home-based stuff, so decided not to stay for the Bank Holiday Monday. Still, we’ve had fun and it was lovely that we were all able to spend some time together. Glad also that we took full advantage of the sunshine yesterday, as it’s back to normal English bank holiday weather today; chilly and wet.
Taking photos has been a recent enthusiasm for me; we have never bothered much about recording events in words or pictures and so, although there are photographs of the day we got married, they were only in an album of my mother-in-law’s and loose in a drawer belonging to my mother, and I’ve rarely seen them. We did look at them when sorting out my mother’s stuff after she died, and I think they’ve dated rather less than many wedding photos, largely because we made no attempt to be modish in the first place. The Sage has worn exactly the same clothes all his life, so he doesn’t date and is occasionally in fashion, and I looked young in my yellow and white dress, discreetly mini, which I bought for £5 for our wedding, and the long, black and white checked, simple cotton frock I wore for the party three months later – which cost more, probably £15 or so. The Sage has never owned a kipper tie in his life, nor any garment made of velvet, corduroy or denim. Nor suede shoes, nor trainers, nor a Barbour (waxed jacket). He does carry a man-bag, but it is a leather Gladstone bag, as used by a Victorian doctor, He has two in fact, one of them half-sized. I envy him this one, and have often suggested that he give it to me but, since he never says ‘no’ to me but has no intention of relinquishing it, he simply doesn’t hear me.