The wordy gecko is having trouble with words lately. At least, when it comes to the memoir stories. So, some pictures instead. My adoptive mother left many diaries, most of them like these, with a tiny space for writing what happened during each day. As if she couldn't allow herself anything more. There are clues to her as a person, but only clues, and only occasionally.
My mother was born in 1916, in Newent, Gloucestershire, and married on the 9th of September 1939. I like looking at her old diaries, but not the ones from later in her life. They make me feel melancholic.
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