CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE; THOSE IN SMALLER GROUPS GIVE ACCESS TO LARGER GALLERIES.
Today was a wet one. Jackie drove us to Tesco for a shop, and to my bank in New Milton where we discovered it was closed all over the weekend. Progress, I suppose.
This afternoon I scanned more colour negatives from Christmas 1985 at my parents’ home in Rougemont Avenue, Morden.
Considering that she had served up one of her trademark dinners, my mother looked remarkably relaxed.
The occasion was the last time the three older siblings were to spend time together.
In the popular antiques programme, ‘Bargain Hunt’, Tim Wonnacott, the presenter, always says “great name” to any contestant who shares his first name. None of them could compete with my Uncle Norman Knight, who, with my Auntie Peggie and cousin Gale, emigrated to Adelaide immediately after WW2.
This was his final visit back to England where he stayed with Mum and Dad. Louisa and Sam, in turn, digitally explored his face. When little ones do this, it can be unnerving at the best of times. It must be rather more so when you are wearing a rug.
My godmother, Auntie Gwen, was the eldest of the eleven children born to Grandma and Grandpa Knight. Gwen has appeared several times in this blog. The story of how she ensured that I survived my infancy, and therefore came to make these photographs, is told in an eponymous post.
I suspect that this photograph of Jessica and Louisa features a debate about whether our daughter was ready for a rest. Louisa’s expression glazes over as she avoids her mother’s knowing look.
Although Dad had only two more years to live. He was fit enough to get down on his knees to play an exciting game of hoopla with Sam.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s golden poached smoked haddock; creamy mashed potatoes; bright orange carrot batons; and glistening dark green spinach fit to swell Popeye’s forearms; followed by lemon meringue cheesecake. We shared a bottle of Marlborough Wairau Cove sauvignon blanc 2015