w.atching the w.orld unw.ind

Both of my parents have been enormous influences on my life, especially my Dad.

Ill-educated because of the upheaval of evacuation during the Second World War, I’m convinced he could have gone much further if he’d had the proper schooling. But he can still wipe the floor with me at chess and cards, particularly the latter, because of his acute memory of which cards have already been laid.

And I have to thank him for teaching me to read. Apparently, he’d sit me on his lap from when I was two and coax me to pick out words from the newspaper. So by the time I got to primary school, I was able to radg (=get through quickly, as in “I radged through my salary this month” – you read it here first) through the “Janet and John” books and their “See Emily play” tweeness.

Before I blogged for myself, I posed the question over at Uborka: “What was the first book you ever voluntarily read?”

Mine was “Bark – the Bush Pig” about a domesticated pig which escapes and goes feral (reminiscent of the Tamworth Two) and has to become ever so wily to survive the wild. It clearly made an impression, because I can remember the title and plot despite it being over 45 years ago (shades of Dad, then?).

So what was yours, then? Take a straw poll in your office/workplace/circle and get an insight into your colleagues’/friends’ literary initiation.