I have often described Mr B and his brother, Mr H, as “Peas in a Pod.” The description has always delighted them, summing up, as it does, the incredible likeness between two brothers who grew up not knowing
each other, but spending the last quarter of a century making up for lost time.
Mr H has lost an amazing amount of weight over recent months. Mr B hasn't. I'm
not casting aspersions on my Nearest and Dearest because, to be brutally frank, neither have I. Life has been too full of other concerns to worry over much about my failure to follow the sensible rules set by my former Weightwatchers leader, the inestimable
To return to the point (I can just hear some of you sighing “about time too!) the Brothers in Arms are now better described as Broad Bean and Runner
Bean. Or, as Mr H has dubbed them, the Legume Brothers. Which sounds as if they should be on stage, crooning a country music medley. This is not so completely far-fetched, as it happens, because Mr H is a member of the legendary Fron Male Voice Choir while
Mr B has been known to give a pretty good rendition of Teddy Bear á la Elvis Presley on holiday karaoke evenings.
Mr H has arrived to spend a few
days with us and his arrival could not have been better timed. For the day after his arrival is one of our Brothers and Sisters Days when I meet up with my Little Sister and my two Big Brothers for lunch and reminiscing. Except that one of my brothers happens
to be on holiday where he is doubtless having a marvellous time.
We are a brother short! Disaster! Step in Mr H, adding a new dimension to Brothers and Sisters
Day. He is a brother, after all. We can be an extended family.
It works brilliantly. Everyone gets along like the proverbial house on fire. My roast lamb
could be described (kindly) as a little over done but my roast potatoes are pretty good, though I say so myself as shouldn't . Mr H has not only supplied the runner beans from his fertile garden but has also gifted me a quite amazing kitchen utensil with which
to prepare them. All this is topped by a truly spectacular pavlova supplied by my Little Sister.
There is lots of banter, supplemented by jokes-a-plenty.
I tell Mr H how the Brothers and Sisters Days began, a few months after the death of our dear Mum. I remembered the way she used to meet up with her brothers and sisters at least once a year - the least we could do, we reckoned, was to follow her example.
How good it was for Mr B to have his own brother with him this time round. For so many years when it was our time to host this special day he would be out in the kitchen,
slaving over a hot stove, so that I could spend precious time with my brothers and sister. I always really appreciated that.
Mr H left this morning, after a cooked
breakfast of bacon, eggs, fried tomatoes and baked beans. Yes, the bacon might have been a tad overdone but, hey, the eggs were pretty, well, fried.
he left, Mr H left us with a present, a rather elegant ring box containing a hula hoop. When he took the role of Best Man at our Golden Wedding Renewal of Vows last year, he had planned to produce it - but chickened out at the very last minute. Mr B
says he will treasure the box. And, of course, the hula hoop.
The Legume Brothers - two of a kind.