Choppers and hotrods on the Angel Hill

Sun came up on Sunday. Strange - here we are at the end of September, and its warm enough to hop in the old flivver in shirtsleeves and head out to one more event. And the Met Office were promising a "two drops of rain, dark clouds, with a dash of sunshine" logo.

I think it means heavy showers. They were wrong.

Squeezed the kids into the car once more (I really have to get on with something soon - we're not going to fit three-up in a two-seater for much longer...) and popped over to Bury St. Edmunds where the Crazy Horse custom bike shop had closed off the Angel Hill carpark as part of their anniversary celebrations. Well organised, our filthy T was ushered into a parking spot around the edge. I promised Alice we were only going to be there for 45 minutes. I was wrong.

But then I had lied...
It was a real laid back day. Bumped into some hot rodding buddies setting there cars up in the centre of the display. They completely failed to look like a scary hotrod gang. My kids were not fooled. Threw our pointless raincoats in the boot of a friends '49 Ford coupe, and had a potter about. Someone had done their homework. Here was a great mix of beautifully engineered machines all "randomly arranged" with the old buildings as a wonderful backdrop.











Y'know - I love Bury. Very bohemian. Load of laid back biker types taking breakfast and coffee, basking in the sunshine outside street cafes.
Left in the mid-afternoon; started to get real busy and y'know - I've not been real good in crowds recently. Don't know why but I've definitely noticed.
Enjoyed the day out really. But I admit it's difficult. It's not a guilt thing - it's just coming home full of a day of fun and not having that one person there to overflow and enthuse to. Not that Kate would have been bothered, but that never mattered before. Guess I'm growing up.