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that watching the dignified
funeral of Queen Elizabeth
at Westminster Abbey was
a moving experience for
us all. With such turbulent
happenings in the world, this
was the moment of stillness
and reflection.
The mist has cleared as I write
on this autumn day; the last
leaves of the vine have fallen,
one particularly bright one
near the porch, it is here on
the page. I will end with John
Betjeman’s words from his
poem, Autumn 1964
‘And now although the mist is
white,
In half-an-hour a days of days
Will climb into into its golden
heights.’
Seize the day!
toast!
Our book club met again last
week for the first time since
Covid. It was great getting
together again, and discussing
the various books we had read
during lockdowns. Our next
book is Any Human Heart by
William Boyd – a book I had
always been meaning to read
since a nephew told me it was
the best book he had ever
read- praise indeed!
Friends still met for a coffee
at the Mowhay, a restorative
hour and a half, where we
have lively conversation
about metric versus imperial
measure, the future of the
monarchy amongst many
other things. Whatever
our views, we all agreed
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