With its delicate pink flowers and heady, intense perfume

It was the first Remembrance Sunday when I couldn’t discuss the ceremony at The Cenotaph with mum. In past years we marvelled at the Queen and her ability to lay her wreath and then walk backwards down the steps. In her latter years she gracefully passed this duty to her son, now our king. This morning was the first time that I had sung “Gd save the King”. We will not see a monarch to equal the late Queen in our lifetimes. I will forever miss my mother and her good sense, her humour and her wise counsel.

In addition, today would have been dad’s 95th birthday. He passed away painlessly and instantly at the age of 86. I remember him today with affection and admiration. Dad was in the vanguard of teaching us what is now taught by “life coaches”. Dad knew and lived by the value of work/life balance. He worked hard to establish himself as a professional who could provide for his wife and two children as well as supporting his parents all their long lives. He also took plenty of time out to have lunch (sometimes with a game or two of snooker- at which he excelled). He played football and cricket in early married life and later golf and tennis. Regular bridge, evenings out with mum and friends to theatre, cinema, nightclubs and concerts. He worked to live not lived to work – and he never borrowed or owed a penny. Hats off to dad – I wish that I had realised how amazing he was and told him so in his lifetime.

May he and mum (whose memorial stone will be set beside dad’s stone next week) rest together in eternal rest

My late grandfather who fought in the trenches and slept in the mud with rats running over him. The grandfather who survived the Battle of the Somme and became battle hardened to the sight of dead comrades. The grandfather who met his brother, by chance, coming off the line as he was moving forward snd whose commander allowed them one precious day together before they fought again. The grandfather who wasn’t even born in England but arrived as a babe in arms from Odessa (we hear that name today in yet another futile, bloody conflict) and signed up to fight for his adopted country. The grandfather who I should have honoured but did not, unaware of his unvoiced pain as he sat, smoking his Senior Service cigarettes, putting small each way bets on the afternoon races and burying those horrific memories. I hope that my brother and I brought him pleasure and some comfort. He and all his comrades deserved so much more. I remember……

We are happy to share as we don’t use all the harvest. Click below to watch its “high wire” act