Oddly enough, in England, it wasn’t Mother’s Day today.
But it was my mum’s 78th birthday. So she got the phone call from me across the ocean, and the presents.
Here’s a photo of her from about 1964. She would have been 28. She’s on the right, and I’m the dark-haired three year old sitting below her. (My sister Claire in at the front left, and behind them, my late Aunt Myra and my cousin, ace photographer Elliott Franks). And the wallpaper means the photo was taken at my grandparents’ house, at Parkstone Avenue in Southsea.
I know Neil, and I knew who he was just by the eyes, before I read the caption.
…that’s, like, something out of a Neil Gaiman story, isn’t it?