I had an email from my sister this morning telling me that Brian the husband of my cousin Ros had died aged 77, after several years of heart trouble. They've lived quite close to the place where both of us was born, all her life. I'm sad I won't be able to get back for the funeral. Sustaining injuries as a miner when a young man took a physical toll on him, but he accepted his limitations philosophically, and made the most of life that he could. To my surprise he came to Kath's wedding 23 years ago with an early portable video camera and recorded some parts of it. Something now so commonplace was unusual in those days, so it sticks in my memory. I wonder what happened to the videotape?
Saturday and sermon preparation seemed to come around very quickly this week and couldn't just use again what I prepared for Wednesday. I also had to find a card and a small gift for the Hammonds, to take with me to their joint 145th birthday celebration in La Cala de Mijas tomorrow. I went for a long walk after lunch, through town, out along the coast road to Nerja Ouest, and back along the beach. It was very enjoyable because there was a brisk cooling breeze, and I took a few bird photos as well.
On the return leg, I found a suitably amusing card and a small Moroccan lacquered box which caught my eye. By the time I got home I was composing a reflective poem, just for them, which I could write out and place in the box. What with Skyping Clare and a few emails written, there was not time to sit in front of the telly. Not much on to interest me apart from repeats. Not enough energy to concentrate hard and watch Spanish telly either. That's what a good does of sunshine and fresh air does for me.
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