It’s been a sparky kind of a day.  The sparking of memories that is.  I’m not normally a reflective kind of a person.  I tend to look forward rather than back.  But all day I’ve been remembering.  And realising just how lucky I am to have so many happy memories.

The husband and I were tasked with helping my parents look after our nephew and niece, so off we went to Murrayfield, with Kimber in tow, of course.

We had lunch in a pub where I was once sent by my Aunt to fetch my Dad and Uncle home.  My Uncle bought me a drink instead.

We played with Kimber in the park where I played as a child.  That I used to cross to go ice-skating after school.   Which hosted all my primary school sports days.  The park I went to every Friday lunchtime in Primary 7.

I drove around the roundabout that caused me to drive my Dad to drink.  Literally.  A large G&T in fact, before I’d even parked the car.

We walked the same route I used to take from school, twice a day  My sisters and I went home for lunch, and in those days it was quite acceptable to plonk your children in front of the TV.  We would watch The Cedar Tree or The Sullivans while we ate our sandwiches or toasted cheese.

We passed the church where the husband became my husband.  I can’t pass it without seeing friends and family gathering outside afterwards to chat or throw confetti.  And of course it sparks other memories too.  Of Guides, Sunday School, Watchnight services, my sister’s wedding, to name but a few.

It’s been a sparky kind of day, with memories coming at me from all directions.  And I’ve loved remembering.