Close to tears

Rubbish photo (should have taken the other camera, as this one wasn't working properly) of Trevor, my postman, or ex-postman, who retired last week. We had a party for him in the Methodist church hall, with a buffet lunch. It was packed. This was taken when Trevor made a little speech, standing on a box, to thank us for his presents. Villagers collected over £600 and we wrote messages in a "memory book". Among other things, we gave him a barometer and some vouchers so he and his wife could have a day out at Newmarket.

Trevor was the local postman for 29 years, so I've never known another one as we moved into the village over 26 years ago. He was enormously helpful to lots of people. When I had a fall and broke my ankle I was housebound for 6 weeks. Ever since, Trevor's come in the back door and left parcels and large envelopes on the kitchen table. He's seen me in my pyjamas more often than he's seen me dressed!

After he'd thanked everyone, someone started singing "For he's a jolly good fellow," and everyone joined in. It was lovely.