Uncle George

This is becoming a bit of a sorrowful series!

I’m told, and I can only just summon up a vague memory of it, that when we all lived together in my grandmother’s house in Maxwell Street in Dumfries, I would get more and more excited through the afternoon that Uncle George was coming home from work   And when he finally did come up the stairs in his overalls we would go straight into the bedroom and he would throw me around in the way that two year olds love.   I also just remember the Christmas when he came up to see us in Glasgow, and on Christmas morning he and my dad built the new model train set I had been given. The only trouble was they played with it so long that it broke before I got my hands on it.