After the (Golden) Wedding, the "honeymoon". Yes, indeed, our celebrations have gone on. And on.
Have you missed me? The last few days have been blog-less, not
because I didn't have anything to say (indeed I have enough stories to fill a dozen Daily Blogs) but because after all the preparations, after all the emotion of the day itself, after the inevitable clearing-up - it was time for some Rest and Relaxation. There
is no better place to go for wholesome R&R, particularly if you wish to add an extra "R" for Reminiscences, than the home of my Little Sister Maggie and her Baz.
Forget luxury hotels on sunny beaches;
at Baz and Maggie's home there's a welcome like no other, with five star breakfasts, delicious dinners in the sunny garden, trips to the sandy beaches of Southbourne and a lot more besides. All-inclusive of love and laughter, of course.
We waited to leave home until our party marquees had been dismantled and carried away by Nathan of Party On The Grass who must be just about the hardest worker I have ever known. He tells me, modestly, that I am not the first person
to tell him that. Then it was into the new WAV (wheelchair assisted vehicle) with the mobility scooter and we were off - with a quick detour to Lovely Littlehampton for first sight of a Rather Special anniversary present. As a result of the detour - and the
fact that our new car, so heavily laden, doesn't cruise nippily past slow moving vehicles on dual carriageways like my Grand Old Lady but huffs and puffs up hilly terrain like the little train that thought he could - we didn't arrive at our destination until
My sister had made me a birthday cake. Chocolate with Smarties on top (I know you like to know these small but important details) and my name piped in icing on chocolate buttons, rather like a Scrabble
crossword. Happy Birthday was sung. It was rather more tuneful than the first rendition of that time-honoured ditty over the phone on my birthday morning. My sister and her fella have made a speciality of singing Happy Birthday out of tune on everybody's birthday.
Birthdays just wouldn't be the same without it. Then there was Opening of Presents (how very lucky I am!) and phone calls with all my Best Beloved. After all the excitement of our Golden Day, my birthday might have been an anti-climax but it was certainly
Mr B took a while to recover from his exertions. It takes it out of a man getting married for the second time. Especially when it is the same wife you are marrying so you don't even have
the benefit of the Novelty Factor. Mr B, of course, is far too loyal to point this out. I rather hope it never even crossed his mind...
On our second day, however, he was sufficiently recovered to
venture out on the scooter to Hengistbury Head Visitor Centre where Baz is a much valued volunteer. On the way we passed a shop selling beach goods - buckets, spades, surfboards - and flags. Among the latter, a Jolly Roger skull and crossbones flag to which
Mr B took an immediate shine. The princely sum of £2.95 changed hands and the Jolly Roger was ceremoniously hoisted onto the back of the scooter where it drew many an admiring look. Well I assume they were admiring looks...
'It sums up my attitude!" Mr B informed every passer-by who looked remotely interested and some who didn't, with a piratical leer. Me, I simply fluttered along in his eight mile an hour wake. A bit like a parrot.
'Pieces of Eight!" I felt like saying. Which is treasure in so many words.
How very appropriate on my treasured "honeymoon."