Retro Daisies

For my first communion in June 1970, I wore a short white dress, red patent leather shoes, and a hairband made with extra-large daisy rick-rack. I expect my hair still escaped! My teeth were gappy and I kept wobbling just one more!

I wouldn't normally mention such things, but I've been filling out an application form that has caused me to reflect on my early childhood schooling. I won't say too much more, apart from the fact that my Mum became a teacher at my school, and because it was a wonderful place, it was great that she was there too! The leader, Moira, went on holiday to Spain once, and when she came back she'd bought a guitar. In the afternoons we'd all sit around and sing I'm on top of the world, looking down on creation...

Poor Karen Carpenter, and Lena Zavaroni from the Isle of Bute. Anorexia claimed them both.

Thank you so very, very much for all the lovely comments and drop ins on my 730th birthday blip yesterday. I am pleased to report that the elvers departed in their tank today, and as far as I know, they are swimming in the river Frome now. I hope so. It was not my job to accompany them, sad to say.

I've been going a bit nutty because the job app has taken around six hours (I haven't filled out one of those awful, long forms for about two years), and I have a bizarre summer cold that is apparently going around the rehab. It seems harsh that I should only be there for two hours a week, yet manage to catch it!

Time for bed now. Just must mention one more thing, the most fabulous, enthralling memoir I have finished reading today: Mango and Mimosa by Suzanne St Albans. A childhood spent in France and Malaysia in the 1920s/30s, followed by a spot of extremely exciting, dangerous war work in various parts of Europe during WWII. She was not of the generation to moan, so just remarks that, when out on the streets coming home alone from work late at night, she always carried a hat pin to ward off potential attackers! It worked every time.