Open the Door.and peep in.
Well here I am .
I fancied myself as a writer, however as I had never played this writing game before I soon discovered I was being rather pompous and silly, and also quite facetious, now I have since learnt I had set myself quite a task but not to be daunted I decided there and then to have a go and off I went on the journey of, Story teller and writer. As I travelled along I began to enjoy myself and thought my goodness I must have been born to this, clever Dick that I am. While at school which had been in a small village, I had been an average pupil from an average family,if there were average families in the years of the 1930s.
I also had to decide what I would or could write about, in my head was a million things however I needed only one to begin with.
I would write about me my family and all the people I knew when I was a child and when you are a child everyone is interesting my family were, they all facinated me, my two big beautiful sisters my big exciting brothers and my wonderful hard working mother and my father who had left home at 14 yrs of age, sailed the Seven Seas, and had seen the world and fought for his country in the first world war, my father was a giant, or so he seemed to me, only once had I seen him cry when my beautiful young brother of 19yrs was killed in the second world war, I stopped believing in God when that awfull thing happened I was 12 yrs old, we were brought up to believe in God, we went to Church morning and evening, Sunday school, Bible class, we were all in the chuch choir we were good children we had to be otherwise we got a good hiding, when my brother died in France from wounds after he had been blown up by mines set by the enemy all my life seemed over, I prayed to God that it had been a mistake and that he was alright, I promised God to be very good and to never again do anything wrong I promised everything I could think of if only he came home, but he didnt, and I stopped believing in this Person I had believed could do miracles, however in my life I have learnt all things pass, we come to terms with these trials and tribulations as nature has ordained, if we are wise we learn from these happenings although at the time we walk in darkness until the dawn breaks, and a glimmer of light appears out of that darkness.
Now I am all grown up and writing.
What I now want is to have Something Published
One of my lovely children bought me this book for Chrismas.
How to get a story published.
Well I have to admit to my readers that what you have just read is part of my life story which I am busy writing and there is much more.
I have taken a small part of it as a short journal
Hopefully you might like it and I might be lucky and you might like to read more about my growing up.
Also I have begun to write other stories.
I have a good one for you, if you and I are lucky.I will tell it to you. Me dp.
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About Me
- Moschino
- I would like you to come with me. I will take you on a journey down memory Lane. I would like to tell you how it was growing up along with the many people living here. My School days in this little country village on the coast. Of my growing up there, with my School friends and other,s. About my parents,now passed away, my brother,s and sister,s and of our chidhood together. Playing in the fields, out cycling on our bikes doing all the things children do as they grow up. Running along the beautiful beach we were lucky enough to live beside. Riding on the "Hay Bogie" which took the Hay Stack from the farmer,s field home to the farm yard then into the hay barn. Rolling our Easter eggs in the fields near where we lived. Of the time we spent finding bits of coloured rags to put in the pan among the eggs to dye them many colours. Now I would like you to come with me, I am going to tell you a story. I would like to tell you what it was like growing up in this small village. I am going to go back to my first memory. I would be about four years old at the time,or there about, I believe I had been quite ill with measles and it was Christmas 1936 or was it 1937.
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