More about that funeral
Before flyng off on holiday I sent a universal text reminding everyone that I did not want to be disturbed unless it was unavoidable.
On Moday I was upset to learn that Bob Waller had died. He was only 52. He had played a significant role in the election campaign organising poster sites and his wife, Jane, had organised the delivery network.
Sometimes you realise that you don't know everything about your helpers' lives and I will admit that it was only on the Sunday before polling day that we really cottoned on to the fact that one of Bob's other lives was as a Morris Dancer. He turned up to the campaigning meeting in white cotton shirt and breeches which is unusual garb for a Sunday evening in Romsey.
I don't know the full details but we gather that he died Morris dancing (or shortly after). I dashed back for the funeral but the train was slightly late so arrived at the Abbey to find that the service had started. With an ear to the door it was difficult to establish exactly what was going on inside ( I certainly didn't want to clomp in in the middle of prayers). When I entered it was to the sound of a folk song and this was swiftly followed by a Morris dance.
I will admit that I did wonder about the combination of Abbey and Morris dancers but this was more than adequately dealt with by the vicar. We were all presented with a sprig of rosemary- for remembrance - and went to the Hatchetts, in Sherfield English, afterwards.
Sad but very personal to Bob and any tips as to how to make a sprig of rosemary root will be more than welcome.
On Moday I was upset to learn that Bob Waller had died. He was only 52. He had played a significant role in the election campaign organising poster sites and his wife, Jane, had organised the delivery network.
Sometimes you realise that you don't know everything about your helpers' lives and I will admit that it was only on the Sunday before polling day that we really cottoned on to the fact that one of Bob's other lives was as a Morris Dancer. He turned up to the campaigning meeting in white cotton shirt and breeches which is unusual garb for a Sunday evening in Romsey.
I don't know the full details but we gather that he died Morris dancing (or shortly after). I dashed back for the funeral but the train was slightly late so arrived at the Abbey to find that the service had started. With an ear to the door it was difficult to establish exactly what was going on inside ( I certainly didn't want to clomp in in the middle of prayers). When I entered it was to the sound of a folk song and this was swiftly followed by a Morris dance.
I will admit that I did wonder about the combination of Abbey and Morris dancers but this was more than adequately dealt with by the vicar. We were all presented with a sprig of rosemary- for remembrance - and went to the Hatchetts, in Sherfield English, afterwards.
Sad but very personal to Bob and any tips as to how to make a sprig of rosemary root will be more than welcome.
posted by Unknown @ 10:08 pm
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