Legends from our own lunchtimes

Saturday, June 25, 2016

The Party.

Yes it’s true that yesterday was the actual birthday, but if the Queen can have a bit of flexibility as to when her birthday is celebrated, why can’t our very own Mum/Grandma/GG?   We did have a quiet little lunch yesterday, but in the interests of not padding out this blog with too many photos of nonagenarians surrounded by cake and balloons, that brief written description will have to serve.

It was ninety years in the making so one would expect that the big party would go off without a hitch, and so it did.  With a host of family a friends and all but the two of GG’s nineteen grand and great-grandchildren who live on the other side of the world in attendance, it turned out to be one of those grand reunions that may well have gone on into the wee small hours of the morning had many of the guests not been of an age (at either end of the spectrum it must be said) where an afternoon nap is of benefit.

Suddenly on the personal front, as the last table was stowed and the last balloon released, the reason for our remaining in the southern hemisphere was no more, we spent a quiet hour or two the with the guest of honour, then a little light clicked on inside our heads that said: “Well you’d better go home and pack!”

So we did. 


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