He is my father, friend, ally, guide and all manner of other things. He guided me through the making of my first dress. Well he could read a plan couldn’t he, so what was different about making a dress. And it was a success. Helped me put a colour rinse through my hair for the very first time. He even let me drive his car, alone, when I first got my license. I don't think he ever judged me or my actions unfairly, even when I was an obnoxious teenager.
This picture was taken in his parents backyard. Mum has a wedding ring on so it must have been taken shortly after they married. They were married by special licence just 10 days before he was sent away.
In his latter years, I am pleased that I was able to tell him that I loved him.
I loved the way he could turn his hand to anything, and do it well. An inveterate DIYer.
From the time I was very small he always had something on the go. Painting, or building or repairing something.
An early memory is of him persuading an uncle that it would be a good idea to take down that chimney. Well Dad had already taken a couple out of our house and it did make the rooms bigger. So chimney dismantled, and what to we do with all those bricks. Didn't have a car back then in the very early 1950's. I think it was Dad that came up with the bright idea to drop them one or two at a time into the river. Not far from our house, the railway bridge spanned the river and on the other side was a children’s playground. So two things could be achieved at the same time. well three if you count a walk in the sun.
All went smoothly until one day the uncle managed to drop one of the bricks on his toe. OUCH. Bu the lounge was bigger.
I’ve done a bit of chimney dismantling myself and kept up the tradition. No toes damaged though.
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