It’s been a week now since Grandad left us. In proper Geordie fashion, he didn’t go without a fight.
That’s the way the Bean Counter’s Dad was: a definite force of nature who loved, loathed, fought and ridiculed, nurtured and cared, in his own unique way.
He loved his family, football, food (especially all those delights a kid born in pre-war England missed out on), horses, and his cat, Simba. The way he showed his love was sometimes baffling, often irksome, but always full throttle.
So Grandad, he of the off-colour stories and angry letters bashed out on the ribbon spool typewriter, the evermore outrageous stories with interchangable leads, the venom and bite, the treacle and bearhugs, has gone…
and the world is just a little bit quieter.
Union Homestead 
Sad news – whether it pleased the people around him or not, it sounds like he lived full tilt, which I think is a good way to be. You’re going to miss the bear hugs and the bluster.
He certainly danced to his own tune!
He must have been a special man, thanks for the short biography.
He was funny, frustrating, caring, heartless, sweet, mean…one if a kind
I’m sorry for your loss.
Where was the final photo in your post taken?
Thanks, Helen. That was taken outside Christchurch International Airport in 1976. The Bean Counter is the eldest 😁
Photos hold great memories.
In the case of this photo, I was also looking at the distances. Incredible to think how far even Australia is.
We are at the end of the Earth 😁 A pain when you are wanting to spread your wings and explore but not bad when there’s a worldwide pandemic
True 😊I could drive to Paris in 9 hours but apart from getting arrested a U.K. border controls, it’s not looking hunky dory over the other side of the Channel right now!
A fine tribute.
Thank you, Mr. T
What a colourful character! I am so sorry for your loss. ❤
Thanks, Clare x