I must have been a beautiful baby

A few weeks ago, several Facebook friends posted photos of themselves as babies or very young children.  I didn't join in, as I couldn't find anything suitable... which is a shame, as this one would have done nicely. Those who know me very well will realize that there's a little joke here. Not bad, eh?

I rediscovered the photo yesterday, whilst rummaging in the under-stairs cupboard. It's in an illustrated baby book that mum and dad compiled, recording my first years of life, and makes fascinating reading; well, fascinating for me, as (of course) it's the one period of my life for which I have no memories.

There are telegrams and cards from friends and relatives, welcoming me to the world in suitably soppy terms...

Something sweet to cuddle

and that's You - Baby dear.

You've made us all so happy

and we love you, now you're here!

My favourite photo is this one, a real period-piece and the best I have of my mum, who died when I was 8. 

There's mum, dad and little me, of course, but how about that television? I guess not many people would have had a TV set in 1948, but dad had been an engineer during the war and liked his high-tech wizardry. 

It was fun trying to work out where the photo was taken.  I'm pretty confident that it's my first home in Bognor Regis, in which case that window in the background (that appears still to have its blackout curtain) would be the first floor one on the left in this photo of dad's shop.

Back to the Baby Book for the last time. Under the heading First Discoveries I like to think that we see stirrings of my forthcoming career in science and technology.

One year:

• Finds the Vim in the kitchen cupboard
• Can move buffer by going on one leg (What's a buffer?)
• Can spin humming top alone
• Switches the television on.

I guess, in a manner of speaking, I've been discovering, moving, spinning and switching things on ever since.  It's remembering to switch them off that's been difficult.