No jo mo roa-polo amby in Hot town, summery in the city - 2017

So. What took me by surprise? Good question, good question. I’m going to go with an oldy but a goody.

It was June 2002 and hubby (he wasn’t my hubby then, he was my boyfriend) and I were on Glastonbury Tor. We had hiked up from our tent at about 3am in the dark on the 21st of the month, looking forward to a celebration of midsummer. The dark was so complete that each step was a test of faith in the path, the nighttime silence not so complete as animals scuttered in the bushes that lined the countryside.

Out of breath, smiling, we made it to the top, people milling around us, sitting in groups, friendly banter batting backwards and forwards between them. Drums echoing out of the tower. Facing the east, we found a spot to sit, ready for the sun to rise.

A man, with one can of beer left staggered around calling, “£1 for a can of beer!”. He slipped off the side of the Tor, reappearing thirty seconds later with the call, “Fizzy beer for sale, 50p,”.

At 6am, a tent pitched near us opened up. A girl stuck her head out looked around groggily, announced that the sun hadn’t come up because it was too cloudy. The zip went up and, I assume, she went back to sleep.

There never was a momentus sun rise, she was right. It stayed decidedly grey, the grey just lightened slowly. Hubby turned towards me as we sat, huddled together, “Will you marry me?” he asked.

“Yes please,” was my reply 😀♥️