I’m also not entirely sure how to feel about this. It’s a very welcome sum of money, but I can’t help thinking that it comes at the cost of Grandpa’s life. I will probably be sensible and use some of the money to pay for a new kitchen for our new house but I am also determined to have something for me that is a permanent reminder of Grandpa. Therefore the garage of our new house will hence-forth be known as The Print Room, and I shall buy myself an etching press like this one:

Grandpa was always a very practical kind of person, liking his photography and his woodwork, so I figure that something like this that is proper engineering and not the latest tech-gadget will be a proper lasting memory. I think I might even get a small brass plate engraved for it.

Grandpa, I will remember you forever.

I arrived at Emma’s a little before 11 o’clock and we went on to Amersham. It’s weird but as I drove through the grounds of Amersham Crematorium it hit me. Literally right behind the eyes I could feel myself begin to well up. The service itself was a humanist service – Grandpa having been not in the slightest way, religious. We had some readings, and my Dad did a eulogy, put together with the aid of thoughts and memories from us all. Just before ‘the off’, my brother thrust a video camera into my hands. Apparently they had a last minute request from Signý (who could not make it being on completely the otherside of the world in New Zealand) for a video to be made. I felt very uneasy about this, but felt better after working out that if I stacked up all the prayer books on the pew they made a very useful tripod.

Afterwards we went back to The Crown in Amersham for a reception, and then later in the afternoon Emma and I went back up The Hill to visit her Grannie. This, together with a Friday evening trip to Tesco and a late dinner, has made it all a bit of a weird day. I’m writing this having just put some more of December 2007 into my photo album and watching a very good programme in which Stephen Fry investigates how to make a Gutenberg press. I’m not entirely sure what day it is. By rights it should be Saturday today, and therefore tomorrow it should be Sunday, but that’s not the case. I still have the whole weekend ahead of me.

2. The original plan was to take in a walk in the country, maybe at Brill Hill, before the house viewing in Grebe Road. In the end, we didn’t have time so headed straight back to Bicester and to a possible house on New Langford Village. Its three bedrooms, of Cotswold stone, and a nice and big, if odd-shaped, south-facing garden, although the kitchen whilst nice had a ridiculously small amount of storage space to it. Whilst waiting outside for Colin The Estate Agent to arrive

3. Back to Brill Hill for a walk in a bitterly cold wind. The windmill is out of scaffolding now and apparently is open to the public. We make a mental note to return for a visit sometime.

4. In the evening we head into Summertown and meet up with my parents at Cibo! for a pre-theatre meal. They’ve come to the theatre via visiting Grandpa, who, I lean is not well. He’s probably had another little stroke, is a pale shadow of his former self. Whilst we wait for our starters we get the phone call that he has died this evening. I was glad that I was sitting next to my dad at the time that he found out. I’m also glad that we were sitting in a restaurant instead of him being in the car on the way home as he might otherwise have been.

5. Ever since I studied for A-Level I have wanted to see Measure For Measure but it is an infrequently produced play. From time to time over the past few years I have been badgering the folk at Creation Theatre to put it on (well, if they will invite me out for dinner as a result of sending hundreds of Blackwell staff to see their shows…), and finally, this year they put it on. Part of the intrigue was the new venue; a converted Victorian swimming pool, although it proved to not much resemble a swimming pool. The production though was fantastic, clever, and effective. A great production.

Roast beef for lunch!
Originally uploaded by shepline on 28 Dec ’05, 4.08pm PST.

Bit of a mammoth road trip, but Dad went and fetched Granpa over from Maidenhead for a day in the New Forest and to see Postbox Cottage.