Who we are is only an illusion; what we are,
determined by our fears. . . . . . . . . .
Perth
County Conspiracy
Welcome
Why is the dandelion my favorite flower?
I was born on August 4th 1936 in Portsmouth,
England.
Wartime Experience
I was three years old when World War Two started. The first traumatic event of that year was my father leaving. He vanished from my life overnight. The second trauma was the birth of my brother in November. He was quite ill during the early months and so my mothers attention was (or so it seemed to me, at least) focussed on him. The following year, in June, the bombing started. It was scary, and, although all the adults were cheerful around us kids and told us everything was going to be alright, I knew that everyone was afraid. Young children are alert to the emotions of people around them... our survival hangs on them being dependable. The bombing lasted throughout most of the war and, Portsmouth being a naval dockyard town, only about 25% of it survived undamaged. Much of it was flattened and there were piles of rubble everywhere. Often there was only time to knock down any walls etc. that might fall, and clear the roads, so it could be months before any cleanup was possible. I remember walking past the remains of the local cinema, a vaudeville theatre before that, and looking down the raked house where the roof and the fancy plaster of the ceiling was collapsed on top of the seats and the stage was a huge jumble of steel beams, lumber and bricks. There, amidst all this destruction, was a single dandelion, proudly raising it's bright yellow face to the sun in defiance of all that the Nazis could throw at us. I was fifty before I recovered wartime memories and, when I got to this one it became clear why, often to the consternation of my neighbours, I had such a hard time up-rooting dandelions from my yard!