stories were told not read
Every Saturday morning my Dad would have a ” sleep in”while Mum made breakfast. My three older siblings had left home but my brothers and I would climb into bed and Dad would tell stories. It was magic!
He was brilliant! Three little pigs, Cinderella, Red Riding Hood, Rapunzel. All the voices, vivid, almost real scenery. Castles, kitchens, boiling cauldrons, hissing all present in Mum and Dad’s bedroom!
At school, we got ” The Open Road” text ” the open road, a friendly road I love to travel daily! The kindly folk I meet and greet and talk to the so gaily.” Beautifully illustrated. Reading out loud and sometimes silent reading while the overworked teacher had a bit of a break!
The first book I ever owned, just mine had an award certificate stuck inside the cover. It was one ( the only one) “academic award” in my schooling. A redacted volume of some of Shakespeare’s played put together by Charles and Mary Lamb. “First place in year 6 English”.
And then along came television!
Confessions of a Free Range Prolapsed Catholic 
Leave a comment