Misses Faversham

I was feeling under the weather after pushing myself too hard in France and that icy night sleeping out near Dover. So my brother Phill came half way across Kent to collect me in his car. He had made the offer a few days before and, when I asked, he followed through saving me a lot of pain. No questions. He just did it. Great brother. That's the importance of being earnest.

I tried to shorten his distance by cycling hard and, for instance, taking the Faversham by-pass. Did I really write this piece just so I could use the headline? How sad. (OK , I know she was a Lady but this is an earlier draft).

P.s. Guess where I finally met Phill? In Rochester, as engraved on my tombstone so many weeks before. It turned out not to be as far as I thought.

Wonderful, Wonderful Rochester