Hymns and Pimms

"The thing about Granny's house is that you think nothing bad can happen to you there," says Revered Son.

I've done six days now, and I'm beginning to worry that I seem to have nothing to worry about.  I also struggle to manage nine hours sleep, when I'm used to seven.

It's the sort of house where you can go upstairs in your boots, and all the mirrors are speckly because Granny isn't really interested in appearances.  Her face is a patchwork quilt, and her knuckles are of endless fascination to RS. I dare say I shall look similar soon.  At least I will be shorter than I am now - Granny has shrunk by about six inches so far.

But her home is calm and feels safe.  Even all the in-laws, and ex-in-laws, find they can completely relax here.

Granny has been in a bit of a state for the past week because she is partially responsible for the annual (there has been one before) Hymns and Pimms evening tonight at the local church - where I got married 20 years ago, so I know that it seats precisely 70, as we personally measured each pew with our bums.  I read recently, or heard it on Jeremy Vine, that a chemical is released that makes you more anxious and cautious as you get older.  Well that chemical has been released in Granny and I hope they have found an antidote for it by the time it's my turn.

Anyway - there must have been 70 people there, as the church was full.  Granny read a lesson, and I felt a lump in my throat, as if it had been 12 year old Beloved Daughter.  She had been up to the church earlier to practise, and it showed. Dad, who used to train young Etonians to read in Eton College Chapel, would have been proud of her immaculate and dignified performance.


I was a bit unprepared for the hymns part of the evening to include prayers as well - the less involved with praying I get, the odder it all seems.  And I felt that I could have played the organ in a slightly more rousing fashion - although I have always found 'Jerusalem' a bit tricky.


And then, being Mum's daughter and on parade, despite having just got off a horse, I had to help, which has never been my strong point.  I found myself handing round delicious smelling mini smoked salmon vol au vents, which, of course, I wasn't able to enjoy myself because my hands were full.


Well the thing was it was really fun.  And I just loved meeting Mum's local community.  They are charming do-ers, mostly of my kind of age, and I am quite envious of her.  one of them even knew two of the couples I've watched being featured on Four In a Bed!


But the coup d'etat was meeting a beautiful talented 16 yr old girl who sang a solo of the first verse of "I Vow to Thee My Country" even better than SueBo, who will be at school with Beloved Daughter, and who has already come across Revered Son at some awful festival or other.  


Post Hymns and Pimms, they were in touch via Facebook even more quickly than I could manage via texting, and he will be cycling over to her house from here on his return from gallivanting around SW6 tomorrow.  So church is still bringing young people together, just like in the days of Thomas Hardy.