The title, I imagine, has already highlighted a divide in my readership. How many of you now think I am going to a formal dinner? You may want to think about my normal lifestyle before answering that . . .

And how many of you think I am going to a funeral? Out of that number, how many of you recognise the growing panic of a man who only ever wears a tie for funerals, and can’t remember where he put it last time he wore it?

I’m not alone in this, as the feedback for the company supplying ties has many references to the hurried purchase of black ties. Unfortunately the delivery has not lived up to its promise and I didn’t get it yesterday, which got me worrying. Fortunately, I remembered. Where would you put a funeral tie? Yes, for the past few years it’s been nestling in the pocket of the dark coloured jacket I use for funerals.

Red Admiral on Red Valerian

When I was a younger man I imagined  very different life for myself, with an endless supply of ties and an array of suits for all occasions, but this is what it has come down to. One tie, one jacket and no dress sense. It’s not quite as bad as jogging bottoms, but in sartorial terms I am definitely teetering  on the edge of an undesirable slope, and I need to have a serious word with myself.

For now, I will prepare for the funeral. It is the funeral of a cousin who I honestly expected to attend my funeral. He was a bit older than me, but had a much healthier lifestyle. I have attended to my clothing, trimmed my beard and am just making notes of the post code and addresses. Julia will be going to work and I will set off for Knaresborough after dropping her off. Then in ten days time we have the funeral of an uncle. He was 100 and it was not such a shock, but it is still a shame to see all the older members of the family drifting away.   The sense of loss is not always grief. but sometimes just the loss of history and the realisation that I never took the time to get to know them better. Perhaps I ought to write a memoir with the family stories I want to preserve. After all, it’s likely that one day a younger member of the family will one day realise they wished they had asked me something while there was still time.

Painted Lady Nottingham