There is a host of details to be dealt with when a funeral occurs.

I’ve been lucky, usually I just have to turn up, seat in the back stalls, remember the person who has died, express my grief, and then go to the wake where we can remember all the good things about the person, and his or her transgressions are forgotten.

It’s different when it’s one of your family.

But, given the differences between my father and myself, which has resulted in a five year standoff, the first words spoken between us today were hostile. I asked if he needed help, and I was told where to go.

Yes, weddings and funerals bring out the best in us all.

With that, I decided my story needed me more than an ungrateful father, so I put it out of my mind and moved on.

I had a soldier to be injured in a fight, a leader to push the group on, despite setbacks, and the search for a needle in a haystack, literally, on the cards.

Cue horses, actors – action!

And by mid afternoon, I was almost there, but the requisite words for the day were written.

Just as well. My elder brother called, and yes, the negotiations continue. He at least was interested in what I said, and no, I don’t think I was going to be his proxy at the funeral. Not unless someone tells me where it is.

For the statisticians, 2,840 words today for a running total of 40,958.