Pies Were for Thursdays
‘One of my earliest memories is of the first time I tried to burn our house down. My mother had refused to give me something I wanted so I went out into the back court – or drying green - raided the dustbins and then piled up bits of paper and cardboard underneath the kitchen window of our ground floor tenement flat. Then I set the lot alight with matches that I had borrowed for the purpose. Unfortunately the blaze quickly died down and my mother was not burned to death as I had intended’.
Dick Lynas looks back at his post-war childhood in the east end of Glasgow where, despite his self-confessed determination to be a spoiled brat, the strength of family values, together with the weight of his father’s hand fresh from dealing with Adolf Hitler, ultimately made a man of him – more or less.
‘Wonderful. I look forward to your final draft’... Mary McLaughlin, Bothwell
‘It is certainly more entertaining than listening to you going on about leadership and management’... Angela Hester, Strathaven
‘A stupendous saga’... Gerard McElroy, Cumbernauld
‘I laughed out loud at times’... Moira McClay, Inverary
‘Even people who do not know you liked it’... Mary-Rose Martin, Saltcoats
‘What are you doing with your royalties?’...Tom Bradshaw, Bellshill
‘Thanks for the wonderful memories’... Kathleen McAleer, Australia
‘I now understand so much that I did not before’... Neil Lynas, Glasgow
‘You – spoiled? No change there then’... Viv Casteel, Jakarta
‘Little Lord Fauntleroy has nothing on you when it comes to being looked after’... Frances Burns, Glasgow
‘I just hope I do not have to proof read any sequel’... Phil Lynas, Glasgow