25 years ago, my widowed mother died. Clearing out her flat, amongst so many things, were her books. Out of one slipped some hand written sheets of paper. A letter from my father who was in London, to my mother who had been evacuated with my twin brothers who were very young and were living in Barnstaple, northDevon. People and children were starting to return to London and there was chaos at railway stations. My father was pleading with her to stay put because rumour had it that there was worse to come and she and the boys were safer staying where they, were in a house on Sticklepath Hill in Barnstaple. I was yet to make an appearance in this world but my two brothers treasured this reminder of their early life.
Good Morning Sunday 16th August 2026
Waste of prescription meds on news 🧐
Ha! Ha! Haaaaaaaaa! An OBE in exchange for the State Pension?


