Revisited...

I was down in Chesterfield visiting my father over the weekend. The stinking cold that still hasn’t left my system yet, combined with the even stinkier driving conditions of heavy rain, strong winds and glaring headlights meant that the journey was only possible by consuming vast amounts of coffee strong enough to dissolve a teaspoon. Today I’m feeling fragile, jumpy and very irritable.

While I was there he gave me a copy of his new book, Donald Ayres’ Exmoor Revisited, which is a follow up to his original Donald Ayres’ Exmoor.

I was about to write a humorous and witty sales pitch for the book, recommending it as an ideal Xmas present etc, when I caught site of the dedication, which I missed first time round. It’s no surprise that it's to the memory of my mother, but what caught me off guard was:

Ann Marguerite Ayres
1937 – 2003

Strangely enough I’ve not seen the dates of her life written down. The 1937 bit is familiar enough to me, but it’s the 2003 after it that was the punch in the stomach. Despite it being nearly 4 years since she died, and me now being 40 years old, suddenly I just feel like a wee boy who’s lost his mummy and I can’t think of anything witty or humorous to write.