I remember well the last few days I lived in Scotland, it was at my Mother's house we had sold ours.  Our crates were already on their way by sea,  it was very hard to decide what to take and what to leave behind.  Even my children had to make choices, sorry we cannot take your police car nor the new doll's pram  that looked like the one you had.  I left my Mother and Sister and we were driven to Prestwick by a friend, I think I cried all the way, I could not have I had to keep two children interested.  Next morning, after all the details of immigration and such we were ready to board, I had never seen a plane so close or so huge.  I suddenly remember thinking that cannot fly.  Being Mummy I had to put on cheery face , herd the children aboard.  As we took off I passed over where my Father had been born, I cannot tell you how it felt, Hugh (my husbnd) kept saying are you ok?) the answer was of course yes fine.

BOAC as it was at that time handed out boxex with pictures of all diferent planes on it and inside it was full of candy bars,  How do you say no to a child who has just been given a pot of gold?

Well Dad looked at Mum, pass it off,  and Mum said best to keep them for when we get there,  I am not sure if Carole (8) or Gordon (5) ever forgave me for that.

 

The acrual flight was uneventful but for the fact Gordon would not sleep Carole dozed of and on, and the 7 hours passed I should tell you Carole was prone to travel sickness then, I was scared silly.  The time did pass with plain rich teas biscuits.

 

It was close to 2 am when we got to the apt Hugh's employers had rented for us for three weeks.   First thing run bath and get those tired and sleepy children to bed.

that was my start of living in Canada.  This is of course an everliving story.