I won't lie, I'm a little peeved. Today the sun shines gloriously. We went yesterday in the low mist and drizzle. I went with locks straightened to within an inch of their life, came back with a hair span of almost three feet. That's the way life rolls. But frizz aside, we had a great day out up in the Dales with Grace, riding on a vintage bus being her first of many highlights!
Typically there was a strong dose of Mum-support as we ventured out in a new environment. Spitfires parked up in the village square just aren't events you encounter everyday. Neither are ladies in green singing to a crowd in the rain.
We got over our nerves and had a little dance on the cobbles, bumped into someone we knew (how random) and headed back down the hill to look round the reenactment area.
It felt strangely nostalgic. I know I'm stating the obvious. But a feeling of pride and relief that we aren't in wartime Britain. And a sense of community: wonderful seeing the women in the square belting out songs from the days at the top of their voices. Mum would have loved it.