A different kind of potting

Nearly lost my father’s ashes in the building chaos. He came back from France(50% of him) in an old honey-jar 5 years ago and somehow went missing. I’d almost given him up when I found the jar in amongst the paint solvents in the outside shed.

He’s back on the mantlepiece awaiting imminent sea-burial in the open Atlantic – where he’ll eventually join up,in an oceanic sort of way, with the other half of his ashes scattered in the mediterranean.

full fathom five my pa will lie

full fathom five my pa will lie

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