Monday took place my regular Xmas lunch with two brothers took place in English’s. This lunch first began in the late 1970s and only Covid prevented its annual occurrence last year.
Since its inception two of us have retired and two divorced and remarried, whilst I remain outside the conjugal starting gate.
I arrived early and was concerned by a noisy diner interrupting our flow.
When she discovered the waiter was Italian she burst into song worth amore.
My friends duly arrived and we had our normal eclectic conversation of cabbages and kings.
At one point conversation turned to films.
The lady come over to our table before leaving to inform us that our conversation brought back many memories.
For me this was one of our best lunches in the series.
In the morning I had a clearance of my garage.
This had become a junk shop of my life.
When I moved some seven years ago I put a lot of stuff from my parental home in boxes from which they had never moved.
I was met by the same issues as my Rust colleague in a slightly different way. There were a lot of scribblings of my late father which I consigned to the dump.
Perhaps I had consigned a literary masterpiece. The final feeling though was cathartic. I came across my pocket diaries for various years.
In reading through them the Xmas lunch with these two brothers featured in every one.