My last Auntie - Auntie Olwen was laid to rest today. She always had good stories to tell. Little anecdotes about life back in the old days when I was knee high to a packyderm. She told me this story several times over the years and it always made me smile about the time I was living at her house just after the war, well, early 50's I would guess. When my parents were looking round for a place to rent, we relied on generous relatives to put us up in the spare room. All her wooden elephants vanished mysteriously
- the ones she kept on the side board.They were her pride and joy. Anyway, some years later she was digging in the garden and found them buried under a rose bush - rotting away and all the ivory tusks and metal keet and rusted and fallen off ( especially the metal feet ). I was the culprit apparently though I dont remember doing it. I seemed the most likely suspect as some months before I was caught in her neighbours outside loo- filling up the WC with pebbles from the rockery.Thats Auntie Olwen on the left in 1947. She'd just left the WRENS. My mother is in the middle with me about to hatch. Thats my Auntie Iris on the right. In the garden of the digs we lived in back then in North London. Highbury near the Arsenal stadium.