Tonight the little man, the lovely Sharon and I, all sat down together for tickles.  He already smiles nearly all the time and he has laughed for a while now, but tonight he was laughing out loud and uncontrollable with all that he could find in him.  This was all after we had a visit from our own parents.  And tonight I am thinking of being parents and our own parents.

The lovely Sharon’s parents are often frustrated when they impart wisdom to her that they have already told her when she was younger. They sigh and she has only a vague memory of it.  So, what is the point of sharing wisdom, and experiences, to our children (I mean in the general sense of children as I have only one) before they can appreciate it?

There is a point, and I was reminded of it tonight as I watched A History of Ancient Britain.  I was watching episode two and it took me from the Mesolithic to the Neolithic.  These two styles of living clashed as the hunters tried to make their mark on the land when the farmers were beginning to creep in.  They built massive standing stones row upon row.  These are intimidating and awe inspiring structures at Carnac in the north of France.  I always feel drawn to old standing stones, we even drove past one today and I got the lovely Sharon to slow down a little for me to press my face to the window and stare.  As the presenter of the TV program walked through the stones I had a little echo of thought; I have been there, I have walked through the stones at Carnac.  Many years ago my parents took my sister and I to France on holiday and Carnac was just one of many halcyon days. I have a vague recollection of the stones but another memory of that day overrides the stones.  A memory of beautiful chocolate covered crepes. And so I remember the fickle stomach driven emotions and not the awe inspiring venue.  Until now, years later I appreciate it more. I have stood there and felt the stones on my hands.  It may take years, but it all sinks in given enough time.