A touch of the shipping forecasts!

I was so enthusiastic about starting this, that I was late to bed and even the sonorous tones of the 12:45am shipping forecast did not send me to sleep. Even so, I was up, out for a walk with Gorgeous George (the four-legged half of One Anne and her Dog) then off to the Grand Theatre in Leeds for a behind the scenes visit to Opera North and a seat at the dress rehearsal of their new production, Tosca. The visit was organised by the same cousin who recently enthused me and she was equally good at doing this.

So, how to maintain enthusiasm for a blog after a day of talks, torture, sexual violence and (I think) death? I didn’t stay for the death bit as I was exhausted but I’m told there isn’t a happy ending.

I don’t know if anyone is going to come along and read this. I’m not giving out fashion tips, videos about putting make-up on or instructions on how to restore factory settings on your tablet. I might mention food from time to time but this isn’t a food blog. So what would bring anyone here? Well I’m doing it this mainly for my kids: Sarah, Louise, Jonny – the best things I’ve managed to produce in 71 years (with a nod to my Richard P who sadly is no longer here to share them with me).

We all regret not talking to our parents about things which happened in the past and asking them questions which come back to haunt us when they’re not there to answer them any more. It was even more difficult with my parents. God! They were Edwardian – by birth anyway. They were also gone before I was properly grown up; my dad when I was nine and my mum just before I was twenty-one. You don’t ask questions at those ages.

So my children are always asking me to make sure that I tell them all that I can remember about when I was small and, even before that. The things that my mum and dad did tell me and the things that other people have told me since. I’ve been lucky enough to have some cousins who are/were a lot older than me and who were around at the time when my mum and dad were actually quite young and they’ve been able to fill in some of the gaps.

I can’t promise that this will all be in sequence and that I’ll remember everything in the right order or that I won’t want to put in the odd thing about what’s happening now, especially when I go on holiday. Oh, how I love my holidays!

Tomorrow I’ll start to work backwards as far as I’m able from the arctic blast that was January 1947. There will be drama, destitution, bigamy, drunkenness, a difficult mother-in-law and plenty of happiness. In short, a typical family!

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