Home sweet home
Bob's sister Hannah
Bob's sister Ada
Bob's brother Otto
Bob's sister Eve
Bob's sister Nan
A baby picture of Bob and his siblings (clockwise from upper left: Otto, Eve, Hannah, Ada, Bob, and Nan)
Bob's childhood home
Bob's mom and dad
Bob in his youth
Bob's cousin Alphonse
Bob's Uncle Ralph and Aunt Edna
Bob's cousin Archibald
Bob's stepbrother Herbie (who really needs to quit smoking)
Bob's cousin Chester
Bob's Great Uncle Norbert and Great Aunt Phyllis
Bob's cousin Saffron (who will do anything for a drink)
Bob's sister-in-law Sybil
Bob's cousin Thorndike
Bob's brother-in-law Vinnie
Bob's cousin Orville, who loves the Green Bay Packers
Bob's nieces Lulu and Bitsy, the biker chicks
Bob's stepsister Eloise, with the twins, Rudy and Trudy
Bob's Uncle Henry and Aunt Rowena
Bob's niece Esmerelda (who likes to live dangerously)
Bob's Great Uncle Arthur up in Saskatchewan
Bob's cousin Louie, the grackle of grumpiness
Miss Screech, Bob's journalism teacher
Bob's nephew Winthrop, who loves sports
Bob's Uncle Seymour and Aunt Bernice
Bob's second cousin Schlomo in Brooklyn
Bob's nephew Baxter
Bob's cousin Darrell
Nigel, Bob's pen pal in New Zealand
Bob's sister-in-law Delphine, who volunteers at the animal shelter
Percy the Pickpocket, Bob's third cousin once removed (the relative no one likes to talk about... every family has one)
The Bluebird of Happiness™ (no relation to Bob)
A pair of boobies (also no relation to Bob, but included for readers who desire titillation)
A pair of tits (in case the boobies were insufficiently titillating)
Bluebird Bitter™, the beer they named for Bob
I’ve been reading a very cranky Mary Poppins book, the original blue handcover version printed during the War (1943 I think), which starts with a pafe of fond hope that children will soon be able to openly blow things up in honour of this date again, since the Blackout was keeping everyone from doing so. The book features a lot of blowing up things for Guy Fawkes day, and a very cranky and rather mean Mary Poppins being no fun at all. I hadn’t known she came across as so tough and even unkind, but got the book from our little local free library in Woodstock, NY–
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As a kid over in England from ’59 to 62′, I always enjoyed Guy Fawkes Day (okay, night), especially when it snowed. Nowadays I fire off a few fireworks saved from the 4th during New Years Eve – nobody seems to mind, not much fire danger!
Ah, the Good Old Days of my Dad stationed over in England… good times, good times. Got to know a LOT of Brit culture even though I was going to the US school at Bentwaters RAF.
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This day always fascinated me! He seemed more inept than dangerous, but I may be confusing him with another foiled blower-upper of government.
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Very informative and unknown to me!
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They were great days when I was a boy after the war when we were allowed to build our bonfires in the middle of the streets to burn our guy.
The days before we’d have our Guy and stand outside the railway station, along with many others and call out/beg ” Penny for the Guy” this money was used to buy our fireworks.
Thanks for bringing back some old memories of England 1945 -1951
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Interesting. I wondered about it. —- Suzanne
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