Mrs F-C and I got to talking about Miss Kneebone this morning, sitting behind a blonde woman on a moped on the way to work.
Miss Kneebone was my grandma's lodger in the early Seventies. She was a meek librarian who lived in the flat conversion upstairs. I don't really remember her, but I've always remembered her name. And that she didn't own a TV. She must have read lots of books.
When she moved to Devon, grandma and Miss Kneebone (I'm not sure I ever knew her first name) stayed in touch for a couple of years, then one day she received a letter from Miss Kneebone's brother saying she'd been knocked off her moped and killed, and thanks for the present but he thought he'd better return it.
It came as quite a shock.
So everytime I see a woman on a moped, I think of Miss Kneebone. RIP.
Consequent lodgers involved a cake-making supply teacher called Cywen and a transsexual called Francois.
Have a great bank holiday weekend, whatever you're doing.
4 comments:
My nan also had lodger that rented a room in the conversion above (while nan lived in the the basement flat)and was an anonymous mild librarian too - can't remember her name, but nothing as spectacular as 'Kneebone'
If you get the chance have a peep at this treat of a blog purepop run by Robin Wills 'Guitarist and songwriter with The Barracudas' where he logs and blogs sixties and seventies pop oddities. Marvellous.
Thanks mondo, I will
Poor Miss Kneebone. I do hope she had a racy secret life that no one knew about.
Anyway, that reminds me, I must write myself a note that says "Don't buy a moped", and stick it up alongside the one that says "Don't get 47 cats".
If She Was Missing a Knee bone it is not surprising she fell off her moped ..............
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