In Praise of John And Marian’s

I’m late with my blog post this week.

There’s a good reason for that though.  We’ve been to John and Marian’s for the weekend.  We just got back.

We’ve been going to John and Marian’s for many years now.  John and Marian effortlessly bridge the gap between being Family and Friends and there’s no better place to go.  You kind-of forget how true that is, if you haven’t been for a while, so it’s always good to be back.


John and Marian have a magical home in the country and they welcome you with open arms whenever you happen to call.  They feed you magnificently and there’s plenty to drink too if you want it.  There are beds that are as deep as they are wide and the sun always seem to shine there whenever we go.

Even the back garden is a magical place.  Birds sing in binaural stereo, the pond ripples with industrious tadpoles and every tune that wafts across the subtly tempered stereo system is bound to be another of your own personal favorites.

John and Marian’s is a haven of rest, entertainment, challenging discussion, artistry, friendship and peace.  It’s really pretty good all-in-all.

But it is not a static place. 

That is perhaps the best thing of all.  Rather, it is a place that calmly reflects the years that have passed in-between visits.  The trees are that much taller, the greenhouse that little bit less transparent, and the beloved pets who resided so happily there now mostly lie beneath cool stone markers as the solitary survivor moves among them, ageing gently, and mourning their mysterious departure into the soil.

A visit to John and Marian’s is mostly about fun and food and friendship but it’s impossible not to reflect a little too.  “Time passes. Listen. Time passes” and a visit here is a moment out of time to remember, to look forward and, for that moment, to just ‘be’.

So thank you, John and Marian, for another lovely time spent in the safe haven of your magic home.  We’ll come back again soon.  We’d be fools if we didn’t.

I recommend that you all take a weekend out of time quite soon and go and visit John and Marian’s.

And, yes, I am fully aware that I haven’t really told you who John and Marian are or, even more importantly, where you can find them.  This was no accident.

This John and Marian’s is ours, you have to go and find your own.

And, hey, I wish you the best of luck with that.





2 comments:

Lisa said...

If you're looking to be invited back again, you're doing it right. :)

Jim Murdoch said...

This reminds me of another life—I’ve crammed several into my fifty-two years—where we (a different ‘we’ to the ‘we’ I’m currently a part of) were the hub of a large body of friends—mostly single—who were always popping in and out of each other’s houses. Our John and Marion were Eddie and Helen; a more sociable couple you couldn’t meet (well maybe you have) as long as you were willing to take them as you found them and even though we never stayed over since most of us lived in the neighbourhood anyway Helen and Eddie’s was a home away from home. Years later when I married one of the ‘we’ I was on about and the two of us became our own ‘we’ we set up house and didn’t get round to visiting Helen and Eddie’s quite so much but found that others from that original group started drifting out to our house which was nice. I remember one of them commenting that they loved coming to visit us because she could literally kick off her shoes and curl up on the couch; we always made everyone feel at home; we had no airs and graces. A part of me misses that life. I miss Helen and Eddie terribly but lives move on. I’m now a part of another ‘we’ and I’m a different me to the me they knew and loved and I learned a long time ago never to go back. That’s what memories are for. Just wish mine worked better.