Reflecting on days gone by

Master and I have just returned from a night away. We didn’t travel far, just 25 miles or so to the area I grew up in. We had arranged an evening out with my two brothers and their partners, and on the spur of the moment we decided to stay over in the same hotel as the elder of my two brothers who lives a bit further away.

Near to my home town is a market town which is purported to be the resting place of King Harold. It is a place where my nan lived and that I have many happy memories of. We visited the church, a former Abbey apparently 3 times the size it is now. When my son was little and my grandmother lived in the middle of town, I visited often. We would walk around the church and in the gardens that she loved so much. We would go and look at the swans and ducks on the river and she would reminisce about life there during the war and since. It is 17 years ago this summer since she died, but as I walked around the church and gardens yesterday it was as if she was there with me. 
Later we had a lovely meal with my brothers. It would have been better if the music had been less loud. It was a shame, since the old tunes which the live artist sang were just the kind of thing my nan would have loved. What is more she would have been up and dancing given half a chance. 
As you can see from the photo, the weather could have been a little better!

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