The farm is still here. I am still here. I have good days and bad days. It's to be expected.
Mike's funeral was cathartic. So many people came that the church and a marquee outside were full, standing room only.
The family who employ Mike took care of everything for me. Mrs C even did the flower arranging using greenery from the woods and beautiful Narcissus from Cornwall, Mike's home county.
Mr C drove the coffin in the back of the gun bus, a old Land Rover 101. Mike's old underkeepers, all now head keepers on their own shoots, rode in the back with Mike and me. They reminded me of all the happy, irritating, crazy Mike stories we'd been a part of together.
There was a lot of laughter in the back of the old gun bus and Mike was at the centre of it as usual. The boys carried the coffin into the crematorium reminding me that Mike always said he should get a discount if he was ever cremated as he'd done half the job himself already in the gas explosion.
Apologies for the gallows humour but it is a good coping mechanism.
The family that employed and knew Mike for many years threw him a wonderful wake in the old barn where we meet for shoot days. No black was allowed, only tweeds and comfortable clothes.
I wish I could remember more of the day. The most I could manage was to hold it together and speak to people. So many kind words, cards, and flowers were sent to us. More importantly over £2000 was raised for Macmillan Cancer Support by everyone who attended. That would make Mike very happy.
His legacy, besides being a good husband, is all the young people he trained to become game keepers with respect for the countryside. There's 9 of us here, if you include me. Mike used to say that I was his longest serving apprentice.
He was so very proud of "his boys" as he called them.
My sister and my father took it in turns to stay here and keep me company during this time, over Christmas and into the new year. I'm lucky to have such a great family.
And to add more sadness to this post, I had to have Mike's old spaniel Dulcie put to sleep this morning. She was 16 and enjoying retirement but suffered a stroke last night. I like to think Mike and Dulcie are together now. I have 3 sleeping dogs around me cosying up to the Rayburn while I write, and the wind and rain howl outside. The dogs are by far the most comforting thing in my life.
OK, no more talk of death for now, I promise.
It's a shoot day tomorrow so I'm cooking stew for the beaters. The underkeepers are in the butchery readying some birds for orders this week. I'll go and join them in a while. I have six more shoot days to run as acting head keeper. I will keep working on the shoot until a permanent head keeper is found.
I have to move from this house but the estate has offered me a lovely little cottage just down the road, with a garden and lots of dog walking paths. I've happily accepted this stop gap for at least a year while I find the strength to go forward again. I'll keep you posted.
