My father, almost 80 years old, had forgotten the wedding anniversary. That happens every now and then because my parents got married at Easter. Easter is easy to remember but since it is every year at a different date, it is not very helpful as mnemonic. When he realized that once again he had forgotten the wedding anniversary, it was too late to organise a small present. He was at a holiday house with my mum, in the middle of the forest, far away from the civilisation.

But at least flowers had to be. Outside there were not many flowers at that time of the year but he thought of marsh marigold. So he took his wellies and walked into the woods. Marsh marigolds need water, so they grow close to the water, usually in mud. My father did not have any reservations and walked straight into the mud and collected flowers until he had an arm full. Then he wanted to return. But, oh dear! He was stuck. The mud does not have solid ground and so he slowly sank deeper and deeper. He tried to free himself but actually his trying made things even worse. He only sank deeper.

After more unsuccessful attempts he gave up this technique. He got rid of his stuck wellies, carefully laid on the ground and slowly, like an earthworm, he crawled out of the mud to solid ground. The entire exercise took more than three quarters of an hour. My father is not averse to the culinary joys and his belly circumference is accordingly. He is really big. Imagine a stout, almost 80 years old gentleman, who is crawling on the ground in socks like in a military exercise. I think this must have been rather entertaining for an observer.

He had managed and he still had the flowers in his hands. He came home barefoot, black with mud and exhausted. In his hands the yellow flowers for my mother. He loves her very much.

The wellies were lost in the mud. Probably as payment for the flowers. And my mother was very glad to have my father back safe and sound.