Wellwood Caldwell Armstrong, 1969Morag's drawing 1969This was the house we lived in, in Hout Bay, Western Cape. Clown by WC Armstrong, 1968Clown by Morag Armstrong 1968 As it is Father’s day I would like to wish all the fathers a very happy day. I hope you feel cherished. I was also thinking about my father. … Continue reading Fathers make an impact
We left early, and because we were ignorant of how long travel takes in England we were overly optimistic about what we could achieve, so we headed for Stratford-upon-Avon which was not really on our route. The towns with their picturesque houses were a contrast the busy motorways. We finely arrived at Stratford-upon-Avon. The swans … Continue reading Day 5: 18th Aug 1997 Ignorant Travellers
I woke up at 4.15 in the morning with the sun was just tipping the horizon at 4.40. My anxiety was also making an appearance. At first Derek and I found it difficult to decide where to go, who to phone and how to go about ‘it’. The indecision made me irritable. A storm was … Continue reading What a day! Day 2 Fri 15th Aug 1997
We had the attic room – my dream come true. I felt quite spoilt. It overlooks all the other houses, all looking the same with their ‘Mary Poppins’ rooves, chimneys and trees, going on and on in a patchwork quilt of shapes and colours. It’s quite humid in London, would you believe! The windows mist … Continue reading Day 1 in London: Thursday 14th, Aug 1997
We left from South Africa, Cape Town International Airport, on a British airways flight after being delayed by 30 minutes. I had only flown once before and what i remember is it had been a very bumpy ride in a storm to Johannesburg (now Gauteng). The weather had been so bad we had to land … Continue reading Travelling to the British Isles Wednesday 13 August 1997
My father's name is Wellwood Caldwell Armstrong, born 17 May 1921. I always wanted to visit the land, where he was born and raised. That would be Scotland. I wanted to meet his family as I never had the opportunity before. I suppose it is also because he died when I was 6 years old … Continue reading Letters of a Scottish daughter
This is the excerpt for your very first post.