East is East and West is West, Never the Twain shall Meet

My dear Readers, I must admit, my friends were right in persuading me to write this story of all the memories that were stored in my mind, going back further than my 70-odd years, to my Ancestors, such tales I could tell of my mysterious Great Grand mother, and my lovable courageous Grandparents. I'm sure if you proceed you will wonder how one person could survive through this adventure. I will give you a hint,.Imagine before you a beautiful homemade quilt, with many paterns. Now, lightly run your hand over the surface, can you feel all the different textures and materials?velvet against jute, silk against cotton, each one signifie's a different Time or period in my life, and an emotion. are you ready to go? I will take you from the rural peaceful setting of the English Village of Romiley, to my Palacial home in India As a child you will feel the fear, hearing the Bombing, then to the sound of the Big Band era in the Ballrooms of Blackpool, England. Join me on the 'Boards' in the excitement of the Stage. I fall into unusual circustances where there is Intrigue into Countries from BC Canada to the Punjab, India with its Casts, Culture and Corruption. You come up against Prejudice and anger .I will take you from the cruelty of the classroom as a child and leave you in the Wards of my Hospital as a Student Nurse,to face a cruel Matron and experience my nightmare of injustice, The helplessness I felt whilst in 'Burnout', and the emotions of greiving for a lost child. undiscribeable depths Iove, passion, anger and hurt I shared with a man who lived in a different culture and world. My Dear Reader, Did I fail?? Time Will Tell.!