I'm taking a break from Monday Mirth since there is so much going on with sorting out my aunt's funeral, which is to take place next Monday. It's a good thing I scheduled some posts in advance.
I'm not actually organising the funeral but it has fallen to a few of us to rack our brains about past events and search the old memory boxes for relevant stuff to reveal at the funeral. And what better way to refresh the memory than by looking at photographs. I found this one of Florence in uniform and it took a while to sort out what sort of uniform it was. I knew she was a driver during or just after the war years but couldn't recall who or what for. Studying the picture revealed the letters CD on her uniform pocket and then it dawned on me that she was a member of the Civil Defence. I'm now wishing I knew more about what she did for that organisation. Oh well, regretfully, it's too late now.
There was one memory that has caused a bit of a laugh so perhaps this is a good day to record it on the blog.
My family on my father's side was quite spread out. There were six children, three boys and three girls. My father, the first born, was older than the youngest by twenty years. So you see, that's why I'm the oldest cousin and now senior family member. Florence was eleven years old when I was born and since I was the first offspring she took great pleasure in my arrival in the world. Except that one day, while nursing me, she dropped me on my head. As you can imagine, this led to the lifetime joke that the 'niece' was never the same again.