Family Album

This is my favourite photo of Dad. He's at work in the study at
Rawlinson Road, Southport. It was a converted loft in a six-bedroomed
Edwardian house and bloody freezing, even in the summer. It was his sanctuary.
I took the shot during my trendy black and white
photography phase. Well, I lived with History of Art students.

We went to Spain almost every year after that. This was probably in
Cala Llonga, Ibiza, around 1972 - to judge by the length of my hair and awkward
fringe. Dad, however, with his Ricardo Montalban tan, looks rather suave.

A party in Edinburgh. I'm dressed for bed,
anticipating a story from my much-missed
Granny Paton, queen of story-telling.

Possibly taken at the old open-air Sea Bathing Lake, Southport.
Dad was a strong swimmer, but a nervous diver. He once dived
 into the shallow end of the children's pool (The Birdie)
at the Victoria Baths and knocked himself out cold - much to his chagrin.
On another occasion, when I was about five, I nearly drowned in a pool
in the sand-dunes. He fished me out and we went home on the bus, dripping wet.
My grandfather, James Charles Kelt, was quite a character. He and
his wife, Mabeth, spent their summers in Bettyhill, in the north of Scotland
with their obedient dog, Kim. Grandad was quite the laird, and although
my father is pictured with grandad's shotgun, the only thing he ever
shot was a rabbit with myxomatosis. And that was with
his eyes shut. He was not a violent man.

Southport, ca 1960

Dad in his tweedy Plus twos, demonstrating his
classic golf swing. Possibly taken at Hesketh
Golf Club, or maybe even Royal Birkdale
(which backed on to my old High School).

Dad with his beloved Maggie on holiday together.

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