Monday, March 03, 2008

Flowers, three generations and a good meal.

1. Everywhere I look flowers are tucked into bags or carried proudly. I run into Jess, Damo and Jon at the station -- they have between them an enormous bunch of red and yellow roses.

2. We arrive at my grandmother's and as we are getting out of the car, the neighbours come out and say: 'Three generations together.'

3. My grandmother's favourite pub was fully booked, so we went to another one in her village. We weren't expecting much (in retrospect, this may have been based on a bad experience someone had there twenty years ago). When the food came, it was delicious -- thick slices of perfect, pink-in-the-middle lamb surrounded by vegetables that might have been home cooked.