Going back to my village
I’m off down South for my Aunty Rose’s 90th birthday party.
I grew up in a small country town, and once a year or so, I go back and visit my aunts and godmother, and the graves of my mum, dad and sister.
I read a lot of Indian fiction, and it often has a protaganist who leaves their home village for the big city. For the first 18 years of my life, I knew everyone, their place in life, and they knew me. Never saw the parallels before.
Though I think...
Happy birthday Aunty Rose! 90 is a venerable age indeed.
Have a great time!!
Hope you enjoyed your trip down south and the celebrations. Sounds like you had good company.
CW, My Aunty Rose thanks you. She was born 2 months premature, rubbed with brandy and olive oil, wrapped in cotton wool and popped in a shoebox on the oven door. Thrived to tell the tale.
She lived next door all the time I was growing up.
Dee..I did enjoy it.. It was rushed, but I don’t think I’ve been in a room with more people related to me for about 7 years.