From the Post
These days post can be somewhat disappointing with a mixture of unsolicited flyers and marketing mail coupled with the occasional missive from a bank or government department.
Imagine, therefore, my excitement when I received not one but two thrilling envelopes in one delivery earlier this week.
The first contained my free bus pass. Having celebrated at long last reaching the much postponed state pension age, I decided that I might as well apply for one. It's not that I'm planning to give up driving but using buses in cities and popular tourist areas like the Lake District can be useful, especially when parking places are either a rarity or cost the earth. I'm not yet convinced that I'll ever use it on one of the village's 4 buses a day but do have a hankering to venture on a long bus trip challenge. Home to Lands End in 14 days, or however long it takes to make all the connections, is the kind of trip you read of people taking.
Has retirement actually come to this? Think of one of the slowest methods of getting from A to B and do it because somebody somewhere has given you the awful label of Old Age Pensioner (yuk!) and a credit card sized pass that lets you ride at no cost. On the other hand, view it as freedom to travel without the hassle of driving and parking, at a stage of life where you can take as much time as is needed.
It all comes down to the marketing I suppose, although diginity does require suppression of that awful OAP acronym.
Moving on, the second envelope was equally enthralling. It contained a certified copy of a marriage certificate from 1888 which I'd ordered from the General Register Office on a hunch. It was indeed for my great, great grandmother and confirmed what I'd suspected. After leaving my great, great grandfather, she committed bigamy and married a toy boy some 10 years her junior but, as well as claiming to be a widow, she also professed to being 5 years younger than she really was too! A lady of invention who couldn't even confirm her deceased father's occupation correctly for the records. He was a simple fisherman (as noted in every other document I've seen) in what I imagine was a small wooden boat. On this certificate, however, she asserted he was a sea captain. It's a shame she was illiterate and couldn't even sign her name in the marriage register; I can't help thinking there must have been the seeds within for a good novel or two.
(Image by Myriams-Fotos from Pixabay)
Comments
Mr ff sounds like quite a hero, Jennyff, mind if he were to try that trick with our limited bus service, he might not make it back until the next day. As for the book, I confess there’s a few brewing on the inside but getting them out takes far more time than I seem to have available!