First we drove to Button Oak Inn where one of his forebears, his grandfather's uncle (yes, my researches do go rather wide) was once the publican. We explored Kinlet churchyard, in the middle of a park far from the village, but no gravestones which is usual for our ancestors. Gravestones are an expensive proposition even now and we are still debating what to tell our descendants. HoF tends towards cremation, and I who like foraging in cemeteries, prefer burial. Tombs are reminders of death and decay rather than life and good memories, he suggested. Probably right, I thought.
No, really, we did have a good day out. We went next to the country park in Highley, a stone's throw from where I grew up, but a river apart. The Severn between us meant that I never went there, or maybe once. The pit closed in 1969, after I'd left, and now a lovely green space with a memorial to the hard work of the coal miners replaces it. I walked down to the station and watched two Severn Valley railway trains (real choo-choos) come through, and to the river. We read and picnicked in the sunshine before some more exploration. In the evening we ate dinner outside for the second time this week, this year even.
