Goodbye James

I just heard from my mother that an old friend from Devon has just passed away in a motorcycle accident.

James was a very nice chap from a farm near to the one I grew up on. Every summer I would help out with the masses of late lambs so when I think of him I can't help but think of masses of bleating lambs skipping about in fields or ramming their noses up as you bottle feed them.

I didn't see James that much after I grew up - he went into farming, I did everything I could to get out of it, but we always got on. If I ever bumped into him in the pub or a country show we would share a happy cider together and that was fine.

He had been in a few bike accidents but had survived them through a series of miracles. Part of it was his diet, drinking loads of milk when he was young had given him bones of irons but after one of the accidents the Doctors weren't sure if he would regain use of his hands. He did.

This must have been some crash to finally take him out. It's such a shame when the nice chaps go.