I drove to Wales on Friday and enjoyed a lovely detour over the heads of the valleys. Before the freedom of the countryside, I felt the bustle of humanity as we crawled along the M4 behind an abnormally wide load convoy being moved at rush hour.
Great fun. I’ve told my mother that I’m never travelling to see her at that time ever again.
Saturday saw me take her to Tesco because we know how to live.
Afterwards, we visited the cemetery where my gran is buried and mooched around the headstones. One particularly grand monument caught our eye. It was for a Mrs M Rees who’d passed away in 1903, and it had enscribed on it every penny she bequethed in her will to charity. On another face, her cousin, who’d commissioned this monument, said that he’d donated more to her chosen charities than she, and that he pretty much built Neath hospital.
Sunday saw me back in Tesco having breakfast with my father, and then hitting the road home.