Thankyou, everyone, for your kind words about Rusty.
And now, moving on to other things… ( I wonder if there is a word [a syndrome, perhaps?] for people who go a bit silly with ellipses?)…
“What Did You Do In The War, Mummy?”
Most of my readers are much too young to remember the war. See? Even I am so old I still say “the war” without defining it. We currently have so many wars on the go one needs to keep one of those planner charts to keep up with the state of play.
But the war I’m talking about here is The Second World War. WW II, as we used to write it in the old days, in order to save ink and time.
Europe had been tearing itself apart for some four years and a lot of people could see no end in sight, despite stirring speeches from Mr. Churchill (on one side of the Channel) and Mr. Hitler (on the other side.)
England was re-smelting park railings to keep the RAF flying. Housewives were doing innovative things with dandelion roots and hay boxes. When drapers ran out of black cloth people improvised with all sorts of plant dyes. Small boys couldn’t make catapults ‘cos their mothers had no spare knicker elastic.
And social evenings were held to boost morale. Even in far-off outposts of Empire.
And so it was that two friends, in a city a long way from the bombs of the Luftwaffe (but a wee bit scarily close to the torpedoes of Japan), decided to go to a “cheer the soldiers” dance, billed as vice-versa.
Katherine was a whizz with the sewing machine and she made a pair of culottes with one full, silky, flowing leg and one plain serge leg. She topped this with a 50-50 shirt – one half plain white, the other half cut from a chintz curtain in a flowery red and pink pattern.
…was refused entry to the ladies’ powder room!