To yet another crematorium, this time to Barham near Canterbury for yet another funeral which seems to be an all too frequent occurrence these days.   This one was for an old friend of mine, who had passed away after a difficult year.  We had known each other since our time at school together and throughout the years of our youth, playing cricket in the same village team and sharing many `youthful interests.` 

Some minor medical problem meant that he missed National Service, but I was conscripted into the university of military intelligence and so we lost contact, went our separate ways and didn`t meet up again until about 50 years later - some ten years ago now.   After all that time, we merely looked at each other and carried on as if the intervening years had not happened.  Such is true friendship.

He was a cricket buff - like me a devotee of the beautiful game.  We both relived the memories of our partnerships at the crease and he enjoyed the last 20 years of being President of Sturry Cricket Club, close to Canterbury.   And so it seemed entirely right that today, before a full house with a packed gallery and standing room only,  his wish, to leave us by being dressed for the occasion wearing his cricket whites, was fulfilled. 

Howzat?