Good job we don't have a Dibley Supper Club really!
This bit is written before I go to do my pick ups, because suddenly I find myself dreading this last lunch, with its farewells and inevitable gifts ("Do you know if they have Boots the Chemist in Scotland?"(!)) and the dear, sweet, wrinklies being sad at my departure. I'll be sad too, because they are dear and sweet. I will miss the man with one leg, the women on their zimmers and walking sticks, the couple who won't talk to anyone and always moan, the person who complains about draughts and the couple who have been married for 70 years.
Each one will be given a fridge magnet with a paraphrase of Lamentations 3:22 - 24 "God's wonderful love never ends - each morning it is as fresh as a daisy." I hope they can trust this promise is for them.
After lunch I will type part 2, then I'll post...
So, all wrinklies safely home in time for bingo or a nap or a nap during bingo and all was, in the words of Julian, well, and indeed all manner of things shall be well. I was humbled by the generosity of the gift (which came in the form of those brown and purple stirling gift vouchers you can use in any shop), the flowers, chocolates and card, and by the good wishes offered by various folk. A hug from the man with one leg, a handshake from a volunteer driver, endless wishes of 'good luck' and the assurance that if I had a free 'first Wednesday' any time they could fit me in. But actually the greater gift is the confidence that the club is in safe hands, that the next 'Songs of Praise' is in hand, the Christmas dinner booked and a future venue secure. A good job jobbed I reckon.
I will miss them all, especially next month when I sit down to my piece and cheese (I'm learning...) and recall them, tucking into their lunch, laughing, grumbling, and generally enjoying fellowship, but it is time to move on, and I do so with gratitude.