I wrote an 8 page (side) letter to my Mum today, telling her all about the snow we had yesterday.
In it, I mentioned two Erics, a previous boyfriend of my sister’s and our snowman one Christmas which was the only proof it had snowed on Christmas Day (reference here).
I doubt if my Mum will remember the snowman as she never saw it, but she might recall the shoe guy who was quite smitten with my sister and a regular visitor for a while.
Dad came up with all sorts of jokes about leather and tanning which may well have contributed to the relationship not working out. One of the things I came to realise at a very early age was my Dad’s sense of humour and his expectations that visitors also had one. Sadly Eric of the Shoes didn’t.
Of course there is another Eric tale that has sprung to mind, a rather sad but charming story of an eel that escaped the pot but couldn’t adapt to living in a baby bath.
You can read about that here.
I tend to do that a lot in my letters to Mum now, sending a memory about home and times long ago in the hope that she will remember and smile.
I spoke to her last weekend but after a while she didn’t know who I was. I’m getting used to that now and looking forward to seeing her soon.
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