“Frankenstein” by Aimee Mann drowns out the sound of the car’s engine on a fine day straight out of the pages of summer…. “And you’ll notice it bears a resemblance to everything I imagined I wanted from you. But at least it’s my own creation and it’s better than real. It’s a real imitation…”
After much putting off, I no longer had a good argument. The royalist component of Mum had wanted to visit Althorp for about a month now and since it would be closed to the public until the following summer at the end of this month (i.e. today), we ventured up north to Northampton yesterday, to see how the other half lived.
It was an extremely nice day, straight out of the pages of mid-summer. Upon approaching our destination, we had to drive up a hill and what do you know, the air was so fresh up there despite the quantity of ruminant animals and their mass production of methane. It’s a sensation similar to your ears popping after getting off a long haul flight, but instead, it’s your nose that pops to the new found air; the purest of the pure as far as city air is concerned.
When you’re the driver in a car with your mum in the passenger seat for about 2 hours straight, there’s nothing else you can really do but chat. I think we managed to talk about every topic that resides between how my parents met and how time slips by you when you don’t keep an eye on it.
