I am going away to my Mum's for a week!

My Mum is 87 and a very active and lively lady.She lost my Dad a few years ago and found it very hard to live without him.They had been married for just over 60 years.She is quite a nervous and anxious lady even though she always appears the life and soul of the party, so losing her rock was not easy.

As a little girl she was often lonely,an only child who lived in her imagination and it is to her I owe my interest in books,poetry and fantasy.She also taught me to sew  and her artistic way of homemaking was inpirational Of course I was a headstrong little hippy and often we clashed as daughters and Mums do!Now we are older a greater understanding is possible.

This is Mum, Margaret Leonora Moreland,she was such a dear lttle thing!

Here she is 19 and getting married during w.war 2, her dress was made from parachute silk and some bits of brocade.Mum and Dad met on the train to Waterloo when they were both working in London.When Dad was called up she sat and cried and the people on the train comforted her ,they were known to the other regular passengers as "The Young Lovers"

 This is a school photo,she loved poetry and wrote it from an early age and she still writes today when she isn't rushing around at home in the garden or dressing the window in the charity shop she works in two days a week!

A Chidhood Memory of the Early Thirtys

By Margaret Day

I remember a classroom,green painted

A wooden desk with a lift up lid

On the right at the back

A hole with a china inkwell.

Thirtyfive or more children sat in chairs

Hands clasped tight together

Showing white on the knuckles

Praying for something unknown.

A shaft of November's yellow sunshine

Slanted across the blackboard

Dust motes sailed in the gold

As the distant gun sounded.

Everything stopped for the silence

Buses trains ,all traffic

"Bow your heads now" the teacher said

"And think of those who fought and died"

Eyes squeezed tightly shut in reverence

I tried to picture mud filled trenches

Whistles blown and over the top

But then I was an earnest little girl.



She also wrote this next one which I find enchanting ,hope you do too.

Bonfire.

The apple wood is burning

and memories rise

with spiralling smoke

into a violet sky.

Golden grass in the sun

Bare brown legs

Apples like fallen treasure

And children's laughter.

The round whicker basket

The leaning ladder

The strut holder and the climber

Both sadly gone.

Still the sweet scent rises

From the embers

Whisps of curling dreams

 Drift into evening.

Mum loves flowers,her garden, flower arranging and has spent her life making things beautiful .She is a Grandma and Great Grandma and continues to flirt with any lovely young man she comes across !

 Her she is at Christmas having a paddle in the cold Atlantic ocean.

Well I am of for a week to stay with Mum and so this will be my last post for a while, Ihope you enjoyed this one I feel all emotional now!