A year ago I said was going to highlight the latest pages as I wrote them, but nope, another 31 have gone up since without a peep from me here. All of them are about, and by, my parents, 23 of them by Dorothy. The remainder continue on Cliff’s WW2 experiences after Alamein.

Dorothy’s are downright beautiful, although I suppose I’m biased. She had a magic childhood, which she wrote about in these little stories.

Why she wrote them in the third person about a girl called Beth I have no idea. For me three things stand out — how she adored her father and mother, how she loved the farming life, especially the animals, and how the realities of life and death revealed themselves to a little girl. The stories are told in the naive voice of a ten or twelve year old, but they’re not sentimental.