Plenty of hair, too much nose

I’ve been told it’s time I showed off my Rhine barge captain’s cap. Here it is, but more prominent is my Roman emperor’s nose. In profile its outline appears to be a continuation of my forehead. Previously I’d always reckoned my nose to be the only worthwhile feature of my face. Now I realise this was a delusion and my looks are encapsulated in a well-known hymn:

Change and decay

In all around I see

Oh, Thou who changeth not

Abide with me.

I had in mind to re-shoot this pic since that bulky redness couldn’t surely all be me. Alas it is. Thus, as my Grannie said, it is better to tell the truth and shame the Devil. So publish and be damned.

I am seen contemplating my two brothers, down in Hereford for a short visit. Non-blogging Nick, in the centre, is not well but I was intensely moved to see him, to talk to him. Con, who blogs as Sir Hugh, had done a monster chauffeuring job, setting off from Arnside on the fringe of the Lake District, driving east over the Pennines, picking up Nick from Harrogate in North Yorkshire then down south of the city of Hereford where I live.

On such occasions one scrabbles about in the shared past. Our father – half uncaring parent, half satyr, half curiosity – figured prominently. Profoundly deaf he compensated with a very sharp mind and left a trail of worthwhile quotes behind. Most of them require a context and I’d be underselling him if I reproduced them baldly. He was unpopular in different ways with all three of us, but his death and our advancing age tends to soften the memories.

Mrs RR and I had a bottle of Taittinger awaiting a worthwhile occasion. Last night fitted the bill.