The Silent Spring: Memories, memories

I’ve successfully avoided the tempting clutches of Facebook. I joined a couple of sewing/quilting groups but I didn’t have a profile picture, any bio details, or any friends. Until now …

But let’s back up a bit. Cedric has been working on a memoir of the first 20 years of his life, encompassing his early years in France, the family’s evacuation to England and their return to Paris after the Liberation. His memory of dates, names and addresses is spectacular. He asked me to look at the first draft – I was very impressed. If anyone would like a copy to read, let me know and I’ll send you a PDF. But it also got me thinking … we all have a story, even if it doesn’t include evading invading Germans. So, I looked up my old high school on Facebook, wondering if there was a dedicated group. Oh was there! Nearly 1,500 members. I asked to join.

And I’m hooked!

I went to the Kenya High School, a girls’ boarding school in Nairobi, Kenya, at the age of 11 in 1963, graduating in 1969. I was in Nightingale House. Each house had 50 girls of various ages and there were 12 houses. Belonging to a house was like being part of a tribe. I posted my maiden name and my house and the years I attended and went to bed. In the morning, there were dozens and dozens of comments from all over the world. Many girls had been looking for me for years! It’s been very emotional looking through photos and sending private messages to special friends who I haven’t seen for 50 years or more.

Now, I’ve got a profile picture, and even some friends. But I’m not turning on audible notifications and I won’t check the page more than once a day – I won’t, I won’t, I won’t … well, maybe twice a day!

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