Today was the funeral of an uncle. Vic was four years younger than my mother and he reached the ripe old age of 97 back in April. I was very upset that we couldn’t get to his funeral and so I was determined to mark the occasion in my own way. Hamish and I set off up the mule-track heading for Lighthouse Hill and on the way I picked a variety of wild flowers. When we reached the road I crossed over and chose a spot on the cliff-top to sit and wait until one o’clock when I knew that the service was due to begin. My intention was to cast the posy over the cliff into the sea but as the wind was blowing onshore the flowers would have blown into my face so I just left them on the grass. RIP Uncle Vic – you were a lovely uncle who always made me laugh.