Memories...

Strolling though the 'My life is better than yours' phone app (you might know it as facebook) I said to the husband, 'It looks like the RAF are doing a flypast to commemorate Remembrance Day around 11.00.  Let's try and catch that somewhere?' 

At that point, it was 7.30 and I had my first cup of tea and was lying in bed with a dog at each ankle.  In my head, I envisaged finishing aforementioned cup of tea and then taking the dogs for their walk, dropping them home, and driving down to the town to join in the commemorations and watch the flypast.  Sounds good, doesn't it?  Unfortunately, the husband was totally unaware of my plans having ignored the 'How to Read your Wife's Mind' section in one of my terrible magazines, so chose instead to completely ignore me and go back to sleep till 9.30.

Instead of the well timed morning I had mentally planned, we left breakfast cooking in the oven, and it was a whistlestop walk around the golf course at the top of the hill in the rain, and a promise from the husband that we would 'drive to a good viewpoint' to watch the flypast.

We had left the car in the church car park, and as we emerged from a muddy footpath, we both fell in step with several people.  'Are you joining us today?' asked one of them.  The husband looked at me.  I looked at him, and then we both looked at the vicar bringing up the rear. 'We'd love to', said the husband, which is why, at 11.00 this morning we were standing in the rain with five other soggy looking souls with a damp hymn sheet belting out 'O God, Our Help in Ages Past'.  I say belting out, but really that was the vicar who was rather splendid in his long white cassock (there was a small altercation with Reg and his filthy paws just before the ceremony started, but  I'm glad to say that the dear gentleman won't be getting the Vanish out later today). 

The ceremony drew to a close just as the husband's phone went off in his pocket, and the vicar asked us if we'd like to come into the church.  'Oh, for a cup of tea?' I asked (ever the optimist).  'No, we have the normal service now', said the vicar.  'You're more than welcome',

And then the husband came out with the comment of the year.

'I'm afraid we can't, there's a sausage in the oven that's got my name on it'.

I doubt we will be asked back...