This weekend we had a first. Peter and I went to church together for the first time. I haven’t been to church since I was a child and used to go to Sunday School and be part of the girls brigade.
Peter suggested we go and get to know our community. We leave so close to St Peters Church and we hear the bells all the time. I was nervous. The other reason for going to church and getting to know people and introducing ourselves to the vicar was because Peter and I want to be buried together in the local cemetery. Do you think it’s weird to be discussing and planning this? It’s not as though Ii think I am going to die and I certainly hope Pete doesn’t think he will either, but the surest thing in the world is that we will all die one day. If you don’t plan it then who knows how it will end up…
We sat right at the back of the church and sang the hymns, very badly and observed. I was a total chicken. I wouldn’t go and be blessed and clung onto the warm radiator next to me for dear life! Ha ha! I am pleased we went. The vicar was a lovely lady. I was surprised at how few people there were in attendance for the service. When I was a child I can remember my local church heaving and having no sitting room. Yesterday there couldn’t have been more than 20 people there. The vicar said that Sunday football takes precedence these days.
As we walked home we saw my mum arriving at our house. She has come to visit us for the week. We have days out planned as well as chilling at home. It’s always nice having her here.
I had my bloods taken on Friday and will be going to the hospital tomorrow for scan results. Being honest… I am dreading it, but if my current health is anything to go by then the results should be good… Everything crossed again… As always.