The bungalow on the corner

My dad was a man of many talents. He was a trained toolmaker and spent his working life controlling a massive lathe, making very intricate pieces of machinery. He started with severe osteoarthritis in his 40s, partly the product of standing on cold concrete floors in draughty factories and shipyards.

He was also a very gifted handyman and gardener. When he and mum bought their first home, it was bought from a plan, and needed a lot of personalising to make it into a home. Dad did this by making the most amazing rose garden, lawns and a garden wall, complete with hundreds of succulent plants. I clearly remember him building it from different coloured bricks and stones. It was a masterpiece.

After Dad died, I had the job of going through the hundreds of slides he kept in the wardrobe in the family home. This was one of them. So many memories. I think I was four years old and I remember clearly him building the wall I am stood next to, so this must be one of my earliest memories.

Mum was equally clever with her hands. She made the dress I am so proudly showing off!