The waiting was nearly over,
but it had been a hard one. The SconeLady had puttered and shopped and cooked
herself into an utter frenzy when suddenly, after having hovered about for
absolute ages, she finally heard the
whistle. The train whistle. He was here.
But – the train appeared to be empty.
Where were all the passengers, I wondered? - and squinted. Perhaps he wasn’t
here, after all.. When that dreary thought occurred, it suddenly seemed to be
the proverbial straw upon this poor camel’s back – and panic ensued. But then,
from the final car in the lineup, a man was seen standing, lifting out his
case, and then smiling in my direction. Was it, dear Readers? It was! The
SconeLady’s husband.
Hooray! It can hardly be
surpassed, having one’s husband with you in the sweetest place on this green
earth. We walked up the steep steps and to the cottage wherein a scrumptious
dinner awaited, and I think I stared rather a lot, as he ate. It was the
sweetest thing.
Waking up to an almost impossibly
bright morning has been an added grace. In it, we have walked, talked, laughed,
eaten, and mailed - for one cannot forget one’s postcards for one’s
grandchildren, no matter what large amounts of fun one is having.
Suddenly, ‘Wish You Were Here’
is not enough.
See you along the way!
the SconeLady
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