It's a reality of life. Assuming a lack of independent wealth, and unless one is willing to forfeit virtually all of the conventions of modern existence in the Western world, one must seek gainful employment. Since none of my innumerable passions doubled as opportunities to earn even the most basic living, this depressing fact daunted me for many years. It wasn't until I was in my mid-twenties that the disillusionment gave way to a glimmer of hope when a burgeoning interest of mine seemed to coincide with an accessible “industry”.

It took me a long time to realise it… And once I realised it, it took me a long time to care because I knew that despite having the truth on our side, the subsequent battle wouldn’t be an easy one. But eventually, following repeated exposure, I had to acknowledge an incontestable fact which I'm now going to share with you.

It's occurred to me that I've written somewhat extensively about three of my grandparents, but very little about my paternal grandmother. One of my very earliest memories involves her so that's a good place to start.