More Signs

I've just discovered that Mum's long standing and last surviving friend has passed away last Sunday, which perhaps explains the sudden influx in regularity of white feathers.  I'm as mad as hell that she didn't let me visit one more time and I've just told her so, but at the same time, I know how much she missed Mum and they're probably having the best time catching up and planting bloody feathers wherever they see fit, excuse the language.  Auntie Beryl had the whitest of hair and the bluest of eyes and even with a walking stick, stood tall, and proud.  I believe she was in the police and the armed forces and trust me, she spoke to you and anyone like she was a Sergeant Major still in command and woe betied anyone who stepped out of line.  This is the English woman who lived in Wales and draped the Union Jack from her open window, this woman was not to be messed with and didn't care what people thought, yet she laughed either with me or at me, I don't care, and told me how much she missed my Mum.  She used to call me Darling, which was lovely.  I guess that's it now, another chapter is over.