Hooray, it’s another long weekend!
Today’s royal wedding bank holiday is buttressed by International Workers Day – or May Day, as it’s more commonly known these days. I wonder if the royals saw the irony in this…?
But I’m muttering to myself.
What have we been up to? Not a great deal, really.
The Lovely Melanie has determined to get fit and started going running. She’s not particularly enjoying it but is extremely determined and I’m proud of her for deciding to do this. The girls…well, they’re the girls. They were playing on the computer this morning, something they like to do most mornings (well, Millie likes to play and Amber watches her) while I was downstairs watching a little of the early coverage of the royal wedding (“So, Dave, you once looked at Prince William through a pair of binoculars – what was he like?” “As Kate’s headmaster would you say you were very close to her?“)
I wasn’t planning to watch any of the wedding but I’ve a slight hangover after going out last night so I vegetated a in front of the TV a little. There is a certain bizarre fascination to be found in it. I’ve swapped places with the girls now – they’re down there watching all the people arrive at Westminster Abbey now. Millie has been disappointed to discover that the Queen is an old lady and not a Disney character, but is fascinated by all the hats.
I’ve been finding myself thinking about Trev a great deal again this week. There’s still a little part of my brain that when I think about him absolutely refuses to accept he’s gone. It isn’t so much not believing it, rather it’s a part that simply denies it – as though his death is a ridiculous impossibility.
I’ve had sad moments, too; quite a few, actually, but they come and go rather than lingering as they did before. Mostly it’s just been thinking about Trev and remembering him so that he’s becoming more vivid in my memory, not less.