Baby you can drive my... train
|Real train drivers don't wear crystal necklaces|
He's been planning the gift for some time. He always laughs at me because I love seeing the steam trains puffing past the office and even dragged him to see my favourites, the A4s, at the Great Gathering at the National Railway Museum. So what has he got me for my birthday? I'm going to drive a steam train!
That's not the whole gift, though. We're having to rearrange the actual day I was due to drive - I knew he'd got something planned and told him to rearrange whatever it was because the funeral takes priority. That's a no-brainer, really, but when you're recently bereaved all your emotions are in full flood, and I didn't want him to get stressed about possible disappointment when he could just cancel whatever he'd planned. I'd actually suspected something burlesque-related. However, he always makes the most amazing packages up, and had also got me a replica manual on how to drive steam trains, AND a replica steam train driver's outfit, consisting of heavy cotton dungarees, cap and jacket! It's important for them to be cotton as I'll be standing near the firebox, possibly even stoking it. Synthetic material would be a disaster (and apparently one of my steampunk chums tried doing it in a waxed kilt - oh dear!) Mr Robot gave me those last night, with a 'voucher' for a session driving one of the Swindon and Cricklade Railway's engines.
I worry that in posting this so soon after my last post, you're going to think I'm a heartless old witch, but honestly it's nice to have something pleasant to look forward to, and I wouldn't have minded if Pete had simply cancelled everything and not mentioned the book and outfit. He decided he wanted me to have them last night. The awful here-and-now is full of necessities and responsibilities, and some of them can only be done by him, and I think the thoughts of happier, gentler times ahead are helping him. I hope to be able to share those happy times with you on this blog.