Sandra

Fabulous indeed – thanks for the link, Libby. I’ve much enjoyed Emma’s two previous novels, so this will be a cert.

Only two entries, as Athelstone rightly points out, but both were a joy insofar as they echoed some of my experiences.  Like Jill, Steve and I were but 16 and eighteen – me young enough to be banned from going on the back of his motorbike, but after four years of ‘going steady’, when  Steve asked my Dad for,  permission  to marry me his response…[Read more]

Only two entries, as Athelstone rightly points out, but both were a joy insofar as they echoed some of my experiences.  Like Jill, Steve and I were but sixteen and eighteen – me young enough to be banned from going on the back of his motorbike, but after four years of ‘going steady’, when  Steve asked my Dad for,  permission  to marry me his respo…[Read more]

Aargh – busy weekend filled with grandchildren visits and attempts to add names to a 1905 photo of a Christmas celebration family history question. I’ll get to reading and deciding ASAP.

@ Libby: Sorry not be reading an entry from you, but fully sympathise with lack of time.

Okay Sea, that ‘honesty snagged my conscience:

The  last time I cried was as I attempted to sleep,  having earlier been admitted to hospital after my husband Steve correctly diagnosed the oddness of my being unable to control my fingers, while doing the Saturday General Knowledge as potentially a stroke. Quoting ‘FAST’, he did everything right…[Read more]

<p style=”text-align: right;”>Sorry Sea, I’ve been racking my brain (while fighting off Ken Dodd and attempting to pack for some days in the  Hebrides) but am totally bereft of  words about tears.</p>

Oh, hooray, and congratulations @ Seagreen, but similarly to all for a varied and thought-provoking selection of ‘last times’. Thank you too Ath  for the prompt – a subject which I ponder increasingly  frequently.

Congratulations Athelstone, and thanks to Terrie, Sea and Libby for their responses to Janette’s  May challenge – all so entertaining – and for the summing up.

Lyrical determination (thin on legend)

2001, around eleven, on the first day of May, lying on a sun-striped bed in an attic studio, John Martyn exhorted, ‘May you never’, in a voice fluffy and worn as the sheet beneath them and a saxophone further ramped  up lust while Fran Lloyd satisfactorily surrendered her virginity to Ivo Kinnersley. Ivo,…[Read more]

Well done Janette for and Seagreen for such entertaining tales, and thank you Libby for forcing me into finding new characters to deal with this tricky prompt. I was grateful for the part played by Google.