While much of Britain is self-isolating and preparing for a siege from the Coronavirus, I went to Leighton Buzzard to tend my mother's grave. Next to her plot are other family members who died long before I was thought of but I tidied up their graves as well. The cemetery looked well-cared for with spring flowers beautifully planted around the entrance. Well done LB!
As I had a friend with me, we popped into Leighton Buzzard High Street for a bit of sightseeing. The last time I visited the High Street, I was with Moe a couple or more Christmases ago and it still is quite quaint. After all, Leighton Buzzard is now described on road signs as Historical Leighton Buzzard. This sign must make it a tourist attraction beyond a mooring place for narrow boats on the Grand Union Canal. It hasn't changed in all the years I have known it. I pointed out the new part and realised that even the new part is old as it was built before I left the town when I was 18.
Later, I bought cheeses from an old school friend's farm shop and then headed for Dunstable Downs to the place where we scattered Dad's ashes in 2002. The skies were appropriately gothic and overcast and the land gloriously green from all the rain. My parents used to take the girls up Dunstable Downs when they were little and buy them an ice cream. There was a van there even on a breezy cold day. Things don't change.
The cobwebs were well and truly swept away as we walked along the top to the promontory while down below it was quite warm and incredibly well-sheltered from the cutting wind.
My walk down memory lane continued with a trip to the Three Locks and a drink in the pub by the canal. The locks were busy and we ended up chatting to a couple heading south through the locks. They have their narrow boat as a permanent home - a romantic existence chugging up and down the Grand Union is quite appealing. The locks are hard work though and while the man stood with his hand on the tiller, the wife did the slog of unlocking the gates and locking them up again when the boat passed through. She had to do this 6 times in all. Where would men be without women, eh Marms?
Unsurprisingly, it rained but not before all the outdoor stuff was done. We sat by the warmth of a real fire set in an old-fashioned hearth. How important it is to connect to our past, I really like how much of the old gets protected and even though MK is just a bit over 50, there are villages absorbed into the fabric of the city and houses with thatch on close to modern boxes.
Memories... ah, memories.. I wonder what the next 50 years will bring.
Remembering you always...
Love
XXX
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