Scatterlings

My folks did their courting in and around Portland Bill in the English West Country. She was working in London after WWII but came down on weekends to roar about the dusty lanes of Dorset in his tiny car. Eventually he proposed to her in 1950 on a bench along the Cobb at Lyme Regis in Dorset [whc prev in re Mary Anning and the Jurassic Coast].  ~50 years later he died and about 20 years after that she followed on. 

There were only five of us to witness logistics at the Crematorium in January 2020. A while later, we squeezed in a memorial service in the quaint local church [with tea and cakes in the village hall after] at the end of February. But the CoViD pandemic and lockdown put the kibosh on any further obsequies. In particular, a cardboard tube of ashes from the crem required something to be done. We do death better in Ireland than across the water. One good feature.ie is the Month's Mind when family and friends regather 30 days after a death - that convention helps with closure. But something similar can be achieved on the disposal-of-ashes front.

As Coronarama drained away, the family agreed to reconvene at Lyme Regis on our ancestors' wedding anniversary 19th August 1950 2025. And it was so. We checked to find that the tide would be on the turn at 15:00hrs and met for lunch at Tom's [menu] beforehand. We were, by geneation: (F1 #3) + (F2 #5) + (F3 #2) + 3 partners  = a coven of 13. There were no ravens but the fakkin' herring gulls Larus argentatus attacked two of us to snatch away ice-creams. Something should be done about that and Lyme Regis Town Council has policy if not a clearly effective strategy. Small boys with catapults for the win?!

The beach, the Cobb and the Marine Parade were heaving with humanity but the breakwater was quieter . . . possibly because there was an unbalustraded 6m drop to the sea. My BiL aliquoted the contents of the cardboard tube into sequential capfuls - with the help [dig dig who forgot the spatula?] of a librarian's pencil supplied by Dau.I. It all went away efficiently with an off-shore breeze and the drizzle held off until 4 o'clock. Job done. We can now move on and start working though my generation.

That's me [back L] masquerading as a parking attendant in Summer kit. I know I pass as Parkie because a large biker with a larger motorbike asked if he could park on the yellow lines for a couple of illegal minutes. "Be my guest, Knock yourself out" I answered.