AUGUST 1945
The August sunshine, bright and fairly hot, had lured us all out into the garden. Mum and Dad sat on chairs outside the French window and I was close by. Paula was looking for small creatures in the earth around the flower and shrub bushes but not having much luck. She did find a small field mouse at one point but called me over and complained that he had got away when she tried to pick him up. I told her He was in a hurry to get home to his mummy and she more or less accepted that.
Mum was chattering away about the fact that there were still long queues for meat and grocery items nearly three months after the war ended but then concluded that it was likely to go on for a long time yet. Dad was curiously silent mostly but knowing him of old, I thought he was deep in thought a
