Nine years ago, when we moved here we met a character who was larger than life and only lived a couple of doors away. We got along famously well and over the years I felt that he was the brother I never had (although I would not have had the nerve to tell him). We often did not see eye to eye, which is why I thought of him like a brother I suppose, we used to argue quite a lot, about stupid things, but at the end of the day all was well. During the better weather we would sit on the wall outside watching the world go by, often having a chat to people walking or riding by, Peter was very outgoing and would not let the opportunity pass to find out all about people. It was said that we looked like a couple of gnomes because we both had a beard, white hair and half glasses, sitting there with our walking sticks in our hands.

He had a heart of gold and if there was something you wanted him to do he would put himself out to do it for you. More often than not at a time not suited but he insisted. This could be something like helping to move the caravan and although we may not have been ready for this procedure Peter would be there and insist the job had to be done. Hopefully, in my own way, I was as useful to him. There were lots of bits and pieces he would ask me to help him with, and I was pleased to be able to do so. Sadly we lost him through the dreaded Cancer (on our wedding anniversary) and his funeral was on our sons wedding anniversary so there is no way we shall ever forget those dates.

We still cannot believe he has gone and quite expect to hear the knock of a walking stick on our front window, causing the dogs to bark their heads off, and having to go to the door to let him in. Then he initially demands a 'nice cup of tea', pinches my special chair, and waits for service before he will elaborate on the reason for the visit.