A week or so ago I was sent a copy of this photo of me with an older sister (top right) and two cousins. It was taken in my Nottingham grandmother’s garden I think. She also had a large dressing up box in her ‘haunted’ attic. A tiny and sickly child, I was sent briefly to stay with my aunt and uncle in Skegness for a few days. I was in heaven as my cousins, seen here, had copies of just about every Dandy and Beano annual. I was later mortified during that visit by my falling into Skegness boating lake and being rescued by my boy cousin (here wearing a blonde wig). He then carried me, dripping wet, back home on his shoulders. What a hero! I found his father, my large uncle, rather terrifying. In charge of Skegness lifeboat and a keen birdwatcher, he blew on a hunting horn before his dinner. In a good natured way, my aunt assured me.
This is my mother with two of her dogs. She once told me she had named me after one of them. My mother hated any form of domesticity, loved dancing in her youth, especially the tango, and rather liked babies.