...began for me with young relatives in the West of England. A delicious breakfast, and a small great-niece about to be introduced to the seasonal traditions with a Pancake Race planned for the village later in the day. There was much discussion about the weather, because with the river in flood it looked as though the bridge might have to be closed and the traditional race re-routed or abandoned...somehow time merges into history when a new generatiion is told about an old custom, and a new cycle of seasons rolls on...
I had to return to London and the train swooshed past flooded fields ...and so home in mild sunshine...and a minor flood in the house, where an ageing radiator had sprung a leak. Much mopping of carpets and telephoning for a plumber and so on...
Then Ash Wednesday, and ashes at the nursing home where a beloved elderly relative lives. A quietly beautiful ceremony, the traditional cross of ashes places on our foreheads by a kindly visiting Bishop I first knew as a teenager...again a sense of time and history merging...
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Shrove Tuesday was a washout. Normally I try to make something of it, but I held a Candlemas dinner and was still recovering from that.
I have had to revmove a Comment from this Blog because it was sent from a site that included horrible pornographic pictures. To be safe, I have also removed other Comments that mentioned, innocently, the name of the initial commentator.
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