The gravedigger has arrived to open up Auntie Glad’s family grave . It’s her funeral tomorrow
An so I think it’s fitting giving this blog entry an airing again. I was remembering Gladys as she should be remembered is is from a post written year ago , about an event I held in the village fifteen years ago now
A " Field Of Dreams " Moment
My family often nag me to amalgamate the better parts of Going Gently into some sort of bestselling paperback. The Prof says whimsy sells, and I guess he is right given the plethora of " heartwarming" and " uplifting" tales of life changing encounters middle aged pongos like myself experience when lifestyles change and temple hair is lightening from brunette to a gentle grey.
On the way to the panto the other night, my sister remembered what I call a " Field of Dreams" moment which she said would be a " Satisfying " denouement to the chapter where two middle aged gays first moved into a tight knit Welsh village!
Nine years ago, I held my very first " allotment open evening" It was on the back of similar open evenings my sister organised at her own town allotment, where friends and family had the opportunity to survey her vegetable beds, have tea and cake and make a contribution of a charity of her choice.
My first allotment open was a small affair, but it was important to me as I left several hopeful posters around the village inviting everyone to attend. Attendance by the Trelawnyd-ites meant everything and as the 6 pm opening deadline loomed close, My sister remembered me gazing up the lane in a sudden downpour of summer rain, worried that no one would come.
I should not have worried ...for the " Field Of Dreams " moment arrived as powerfully as anything ever seen in a sentimental movie or tv series! the only thing that was bloody lacking was a sudden swelling of a musical score, for at exactly 6 pm and led by Auntie Glad hidden underneath an oversized umbrella, a long line of village characters weaved their way down the Church lane towards the field to support the event.
It was a real Hollywood moment amid the wet grass and Slightly damp Victoria sponges.
Perhaps, my sister is right. It is these kind of moments balanced with the sadness of those normal life dramas that make a story readable and accessible to all. Light and froth peppered with emotional romps......perhaps that is the formula..
Anyway over to you all.....you all, like me, have a book inside you......if you eventually write it, what would be your " Field Of Dreams" moment?
I'd be interested to know.
I should not have worried ...for the " Field Of Dreams " moment arrived as powerfully as anything ever seen in a sentimental movie or tv series! the only thing that was bloody lacking was a sudden swelling of a musical score, for at exactly 6 pm and led by Auntie Glad hidden underneath an oversized umbrella, a long line of village characters weaved their way down the Church lane towards the field to support the event.
I should not have worried ...for the " Field Of Dreams " moment arrived as powerfully as anything ever seen in a sentimental movie or tv series! the only thing that was bloody lacking was a sudden swelling of a musical score, for at exactly 6 pm and led by Auntie Glad hidden underneath an oversized umbrella, a long line of village characters weaved their way down the Church lane towards the field to support the event.
It was a real Hollywood moment amid the wet grass and Slightly damp Victoria sponges.
Perhaps, my sister is right. It is these kind of moments balanced with the sadness of those normal life dramas that make a story readable and accessible to all. Light and froth peppered with emotional romps......perhaps that is the formula..
from Going Gently https://ift.tt/Bp1IHxX
