Ro and Dora came over for dinner today. She and her sister are going to Thailand in a fortnight, to visit their brother and his other half, who are expecting a baby in the New Year. She confidently expects Ro to miss her horribly, and I’m sure he will, except for the weekend when he’s visiting Zain in London. I promised to lend him my Oyster card and then we forgot. D’oh. I’ll put it in the post, if we won’t be meeting before then.
I had an unscheduled stint at the early service this morning. The person who was down to be sidesman has a frozen shoulder; he had to help shift a dead body the other day and was obliged to take the weight on his wrists as he couldn’t use the strength of his upper arms and, yesterday, found that his hands swelled up. He and his wife were due to go on holiday tonight, so yesterday were trying to get a doctor’s advice on whether it was okay to go. I hope so, the profession of undertaker is a demanding one and they need a break. Anyway, I was searching for my key at 7.30 this morning. I had last seen it, that I remembered, before I went away when I was sorting out my handbag. Having looked in all the likely places, I decided it might be in another bag, which I couldn’t find. In the end, just as I thought I was going to have to give up and call on someone else with a key (who would be up, I’m not that inconsiderate), I found the bag and therefore the key. I also found £100 which I had squirrelled away and forgotten where. It wasn’t lost, you understand, I just hadn’t found it again yet.
I had another visit to church later of course, for the Remembrance Sunday service. I shall never not be struck by the recital of the names of 25 men from this little village who lost their lives in the Great War. It still shocks. And another of our three linked villages lost 4 from the same family.