A Lion in Winter

A very successful lunch this afternoon at the Lion, Leintwardine, pictured above around 1950. I recognised instantly my cousin, who I'd only met previously just after he was born, standing at the bar with his wife, as I walked in. He looked as his father did fifty years ago, and every inch a Southall in appearance. We swapped family stories and details straight off the bat, and in just a couple of his answers to my questions, my mother's father's side of the family tree was pretty much confirmed, and by inference, the identities of some of the other people in my old family photographs. It's extraordinary meeting up with a close relative you never really met before: we'd spoken on the phone and exchanged emails and cards in the couple of years since I first made contact with him, but a face to face reunion makes it all real. Gaps in both our knowledge of the family history were pretty much instantly made clear, and common ground reaffirms details that until now were becoming academic as the family ages and moves on. More than that, though, we all got on famously and a great collective jangle was had by all. Oh, and the food and beer was pretty good too!