Okay, here I go. My dad was born in the Borders because his mum's family was from there. She married a Lincolnshire man from Grimsby. She'd had five girls then lost a boy baby to the then necessary in England, but not in Scotland, smallpox vaccine, so when she got pregnant again, she went to her family, in Scotland and had the boy, my father, Arthur, a lovely man.

Mum, Elizabeth Quinn, born and bred in Ayrshire, met dad when he was stationed nearby in ww11, he was RN and I think there was some anxiety going on with the ICI being a potential target. Apparently she decided he was hers right then. After they married, St. John's, Stevenston, 1947, they went to England. My dad's brother in law owned a trawler and dad had worked since age 14 on board, so I think he felt with the post war employment problems at least he'd have a guaranteed job. When my sister, Elise, reached school age, we returned to Stevenston, my mum wanting us to have 'a good, Scottish, education'.

School was fun at least at St. John's, and I was reasonably good at it. I remember walking there in the dark and walking home in the dark and it never being really light all day in winter. I remember my hands being so cold after playtime that washing them in cold water burned, and hoping to get out in the first three or four in line to get the milk bottles that had frozen to an 'ice lolly', the once a year sale of tablet and toffee apples the seasonal pastimes, skipping, scraps, eeleevo, British bulldog, tig..All off the teachers were kind or at least fair, bar Ms. Kelly. In retrospect I think she had health issues but lordy she made us hate school. A funny aspect of that and maybe to do with her problems, she gave us sanitary napkins cut into thirds as pen wipers, (yes, we actually had inkwells that were topped up with water rather than ink regularly.) We, well I, at least had no clue what they were but we always felt special if we got one with a handle. 

On the Queen Mary at Long Beach California having a wee 3Ts reunion 2001.
Our Morag, Alistair Mann and Martin Murphy - All originally from Stevenston.

I also remember being very in touch with nature, recognising the Ash tree with it's black buds, the sycamores, chestnuts, beeches, rowans etc, taking frog spawn and putting  it in a big jar and when they became frogs putting them in the bath! I loved the rec, usually our route to school, you could name the seasons by it, the bright green bold  new grass that summoned spring, the different birdsong. I was lucky to have an understanding grampa as I was always trailing something home. One time a wee lintie, no idea how it died but I cradled it to my bosom - if you have one at that age - thinking grandpa could maybe fix it. We buried it in solemn ceremony..rabbits, sammy the crow..plants. People living on Hillcrest dr often dumped garden waste over the rec wall, scavenger me and my pals would rummage through and take 'perfectly good' specimens, usually for school but one time I took a sprig of holly home to said grandpa, as usual he humoured me and planted it. It flourished into a large bush...wonder if it's still there? Front garden, 14 Glencairn St. local photogs!