We are off out to the theatre tonight to see The Woman in Black. I first saw it about 15 years ago; Furtle has never seen it, though I have warned her that there are a couple of places that will have her leaping out of her chair in fright. She is a delicate blossom and I thought it fair to warn her in such vague terms as to give nothing away, while increasing nervous anticipation.
Ho ho.
In the meantime however, today is the second of the trigger dates that mean I should phone home and have a chat with Mum. The first was way back on 20 May which would have been their 55th wedding anniversary.
Today would have been Dad’s 87th birthday. I’ll have to have a natter at lunchtime as there will not be time tonight. Hopefully Mum is OK, but in these matters it’s hard to predict how someone will react. Regardless of the date, she’s due a phone call anyway.
It’s been eight months already. Tempus fugit.