The last two trips I took to Scotland - to Dumfries in particular - involved the funeral of one aunt, and conveying my mother to my uncle and other aunt to speak to them in person about her (now in remission) cancer.

Next week, I shall have to go back up again, as that uncle died on Saturday morning, at a mere 91 years old, and his funeral is on Wednesday.

I need a happier reason to go up North.

(My mother's other brother died about 35 years ago, and is buried in his own churchyard in Ickleton, the next door parish to Duxford. His widow, having been cremated in Dumfries, has her ashes buried next to him. This struck me as a little odd, given that she may have spent more time married to her second husband than to her first.)