I was touched to re-read Pub Curmudgeon’s poignant piece on visiting pubs with his dad this morning;
“(the pub) was where we had our best and most open conversations“.
I also enjoyed Duncan’s recent post on pub-going with his Dad.
One of the highlight’s of Simon’s blog is his relationship with Father BRAPA, who has a smile I wish you could bottle.
If only Simon had inherited his father’s dress sense, eh !
That photo above sums up my parents, too. Smiling Dad, cheery but slightly worried Mum. I’ve just dropped my Father’s Day card round; Mum reminded me it was my wedding anniversary soon, Dad laughed when I said we forget every year (it’s a tradition).
Dad is teetotal, so though we speak most days we’d never chat over a pint, only in a garden centre, which is the gentlefolk equivalent of pubs these days.
I DID get him in a pub recently, though come to think of it that was a Brunning & Price on the way back from the gardens at Wisley.
In fact, this is the only photo I can find of Dad entering a “Proper” pub*, and even that was between a Wisbech flower auction and more garden centres.
Thanks for everything, Dad, and keep smiling.
*I’m not counting the many restaurants masquerading as “pubs” these days.