History girl goes back to school

I have spent many, many hours (willingly) listening to my Dad talking about his childhood, but it wasn't until more recently that I realised that he knew very little about his (and therefore my) family history. We're not talking ancestors of way back when here. The question marks start with the year his father was born. So, history girl, aka yours truly, moi, me myself, has decided to try and do some research, a little journey I plan to share with you. Not that I have a clue where to start. Modern history, what's that?!

We learn what is important to us

The boy's most recent words are 'door' and 'keys' which rather neatly sum up what he generally wants: to go outside. Door is not said once, but in an unending chant, as this morning. Although the allure of the front door was much diminished once it was clear that stepping through that portal was but a step closer to nursery.

Nothing fancy about it

When did it become the thing to buy, rather than make, your child's fancy dress costume? The boy and I went to a 'do' today to raise funds for the local maternity hospital, and the fancy dress parade sported only one homemade costume (and thus to my mind only one contender for a prize) - a rather fetching Dalmation puppy, otherwise known as Leo. The judges were not of like minds. What would they have made of the line up of rag-tag costumes sported by myself and my class mates at an infant school fancy dress in honour of the Queen's Silver Jubilee in 1977? Presumably not much. Bah, bah, humbug.