On the 1st July 1971, a family of four moved into the tiny North Devon village of Woolsery. Having worked overseas in Nigeria and then Hong Kong for many years the family were unprepared for the England of the early 1970s, a land where the old boss was the same as the new boss, and the beards had all grown longer overnight.However, living next door was a family of five, and the younger generations of both families soon became intertwined to the extent that they were like one large family, and nearly 40 years later we still are.
I still introduce Kaye Braund-Phillips to everyone as my sister, and her husband Roy is effectively my brother-in-law.
Her three boys are my nephews, and I couldn't love them any more if they were my own flesh and blood.
So I feel totally involved in their lives; their ups and downs, and their joys and disasters.
Today is a special day at the Braund-Phillips household. Not only is Marjorie, who has been a second mother to me for 38 years, coming home from the hospice in Barnstaple, but David, my eldest nephew, and the nearest thing to a son I have ever or will ever have, is taking his driving test.
Good vibes please from everyone....
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