Some may have difficulty accepting that I'm ever silent. But the fact is that due to dyslexia I couldn't say a word until I was five. My brother claims I've made up for it since.
My current silent mode is connected with unfinished business. I'm rapidly approaching my eightieth year and there are some things I want to say in connection with the campaigns I've fought before leaving it be. Just as my grandfather Enoch made clear to my grandmother when they were arguing as to whether the lightening overhead was sheet or fork. My grandmother insisted it was sheet, whereas Enoch claimed it was fork. This went backwards and forwards until my grandfather, stamping from the living room said: enough is enough, let's leave it be...but it was fork!
Enoch Burnett (1879-1950)
If I gave trouble when I was growing up, my mother would throw her hands up in despair and say: you're just like your grandfather. I now take that as a compliment! His war medals were for "Work at the Forge".
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