George Eliot. (Someone with very little facial hair, mainly on account of the fact that he's a she.)
Yesterday's party was back in the village where I lived from the age of about twelve onwards. My formative years, you could say. In fact, I left home at seventeen but even so, this is the place of memories.
Here's the church I went to - the church I was married in, almost thirty four years ago...
Here's the river I swam in and canoed on in my 'Swallows and Amazons' days.
Here's the pack-horse bridge I dreamed dreams on.
My parents are still here in spirit.
And in my heart.