Growing up in Robin Hoods Bay
My brother is an entertaining writer of short stories, Here is one on our childhood memories . Memories Memory is a funny thing. As my mother entered her final years, she seemed to have an incredible recall of events and people from over 80 years in the past. Whilst still aware enough to remember who the prime minister was, she would have trouble remembering what had happened to her in the last week. My memory for some things is poor; I am dreadful at remembering names. I can recall that I know the face, but often not the association or the name. On the other hand, my wife’s memory for names and faces is amazing. She still on occasions meets and remembers people who she knew at primary school. I can remember numbers, places, names of places and events. It probably says a lot about the kind of people we are. My wife is a warm, friendly people person. I can remember numbers. But the purpose of this piece is ...