bee ... this time last having banter over the brandy butter. The sister not having Christmas pud on New Years Day. And would have made it if she was having some!!! No matter I was off the booze with travelling shortly. Mum made up for it on the Monday. The clotted cream for Monday having instead.
On the one hand realising what I missed; on the other completely forgetting how I relish things like this ... the smallest piece of life ... after what I do not talk or remind others I did not have a while ...
The continued context of the silent within. The knock on ripples to this day ...
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