Sadly Uncle Bob (on Darling Husband's side) has passed away.
He was well known for his lifetime of farming, wit and intelligence.
Also for hiding when relatives visited.
We gathered with family and friends at this beautiful Church in Herefordshire to say farewell. The farmland stretched out below us in the valley.
The Reverend King welcomed us to his Church and spoke with passion about Life and Death and the Good Lord. My sister in law and her cousin had written some memories and tributes to Uncle Bob mostly regarding their childhood spent at the Farm with him.
SIL: I can remember going thistle pulling with him, thinking it would be a good opportunity to get to know him better...but when I turned round he'd gone home and left me to it.
Mad Cousin Pat wrote about how he'd taught her to drive when she was really young (and certainly not legally allowed).
We were asked to view the statue of a sheep dog on our way out of the Church (Uncle Bob always loved his Sheep dogs) and to make sure some-one took it home otherwise the Reverend said he'd 'nick it'....(you really can't trust anyone these days!)
The reverend referred to Uncle Bob pulling marigolds...
(a murmur rumbled around the church)
"Ah, should I have said mangles?"
Congregation: "Yes!"
"Sorry I thought that looked funny and I couldn't understand for the life of me why he would top and tail them, I can't read my own writing!"
Darling Husband: "You should have gone to SpecSavers!"
We walked out into Bright Sunshine and gale force winds down to the graveside.
My beautiful pashmina whipped round in the wind and attached itself to a headstone making me jerk back somewhat in-elegantly as I tried to walk.
My nephew burst out laughing, Darling Husband rolled his eyes.
I struggled to get the silk away from the lichen while holding up the mourning procession.
My Brother-in-law threw a handful of dust into the grave and the wind caught it and threw it straight back out again, we all clung on to each other for fear of being blown over.
We all gathered later in the village hall for cups of tea and a good thaw, followed by scrumptious cakes and sandwiches.
Uncle Owen paraded with SIL's handbag over his shoulder for some time and we all had a very pleasant time.
Later the family gathered back at the family farm for sherry, tea and more cakes and we were shown Uncle Bob's school books.
They were beautifully written, so neat!
Fantastic illustrations and many a story about finding some sort of stick, must have been a boy thing.
So there we are, another true story about some tea and cakes, a blustery day and Bob's your uncle!
