A full stop

Fond farewells with Pat and Maureen, who went back to Ashford. Lorraine took them first to Battle where they had some lunch and Maureen bought some special woola special wool and make sure it was the right sort of four ply cotton. 

I meanwhile did bits of my own work. Mid afternoon, I found myself straying onto Ancestry.com on a free trial. It was there I learned that my biological father John had died in February 2017 at the comparatively tender age of 76. Not sure what to make of this -- obviously as I had no kind of relationship with him, it wasn't a particularly emotional experience, but nevertheless something, especially as I have been writing about the unreliable nature of early memory lately and so have been thinking lots about my first few years, in which he appears mainly as an absence.

My main thoughts were selfish ones: I wish he'd lived longer as evidence of magnificent genes. And also ruing the idea that call from the mystery solicitor mentioning a large legacy will also never happen. A full stop on nothing very much.

Looked up from the computer and realised time had flown. I zipped to the station and went to Lewes where I met a stripy Robin on the platform. A quick beer in the pub by the station to talk about the podcast and generally catch up and hear about her holiday in Wales. Then we wandered across the river to have a modest bite to eat at the John Harvey tavern and another cheeky beer. We left Lewes and went our separate ways at around eight. Home, and I waited up for Lorraine, who was driving back the same day from Ashford. 

Below an insect called a slip wasp, which paused to let me photograph it, walking upside down in the glasshouse.