July 25, 2010
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Fare thee well, Fare thee well
It has been a bit of a week for saying Goodbye. Brownies finished for the summer, my camera finally gave up the ghost, by refusing to take pictures of Ciorstaidh's Queen's Guide Award presentation in The Royal Albert Hall and one of our Brownies' Daddies finally lost the war against prostate cancer. Several battles had been lost recently, and he slipped off on Tuesday morning.
So I phoned my own Daddy, having spent the afternoon with this Brownie and her Mummy: Brownie is full of beans. Mummy is totally confused, but lovely (and made us lunch. Small victory: how many peas could I get the Brownie to eat? Pretty much all of them... bribery with potato waffles). I also taught the Brownie about Mr Creosote and the Wafer Thin Mint. She does a pretty good turn as John Cleese, now. It is hilarious. She is laughing a lot, and processing, and definitely wanting to hear all about my Daddy. So we swopped having old, slightly irate, Daddy stories. And about locking ourselves out. We played with stickers and made a notebook, and all in all it was a lovely afternoon.
My Daddy listened to me burble down the phone when I left, and then had a senior moment, failing to remember what it was he wanted to ask me. He phoned back 5 minutes ago: it was how to find the signal strength display for the digital radio. I said I think it was the info button, helpfully having a senior moment back. The thing was, my Brownie's Daddy was diagnosed 8 years ago. My Daddy was diagnosed a year and a half ago. Not long enough left. Not long enough at all.
Photos from two weekends ago:
Cupcakes
Cute boy with cupcake
Recalcitrant cat
Birthday boy
And a whole slew of pictures from Bletchley Park can be found in the album called that... but if I try and link now it will All Go Wrong.
There was more, but it's mostly sweaty and muggy, so I'm going to move on to dealing with Brownies Admin.
xxx
