There are places that remain in our memories, the details may become slightly blurred, nostalgia may colour our thoughts, but they don’t fade. And how those places made us feel at the time is the one thing that remains.
Today I’m welcoming Robbie Cheadle, someone I’ve known and admired as an online friend for many years.
Thank you, Judith, for inviting me to talk about my memories.
As a little girl I was quiet and self-contained. The oldest of four daughters, my mom was often busy with a new baby and so I spent a lot of time alone. I do believe I was a lonely child and passed my time reading, listening to Broadway musicals on my mother’s record player, and doing numerous artistic projects.
By the time I was eighteen, I’d lived in twenty-one houses and attended fourteen schools. Twelve of my school changes occurred before I was twelve and once, I changed schools twice during the same academic year.
I never developed lasting and strong friendships with other girls which may have been a consequence of all these disruptions. Instead, my sisters and I played together. Their births were the highlight moments of my younger years.
My time as a baby and a toddler are grey mist to me, but the first powerful memory I have is of the entrance of my sister, Catherine, into my life. She displaced me as the only one and I wasn’t pleased about it at the time.
I wrote a short story about Catherine’s birth, she was born prematurely at 32 weeks, and the subsequent turmoil that ensued. The story is called The New Baby and is included in an anthology called Memories of Mom: Rave Soup For The Writer’s Soul Anthology, 2022 available here: https://www.amazon.com/MEMORIES-MOM-Rave-Writers-Anthology-ebook/dp/B09ZRK4L6B
The following extracts illustrate how I recall feeling about my new sister:
“I prayed: “Thank you, God, for sending me a sister. I don’t mind being an only child though, so would you please take her away and give her to another girl who really wants a baby sister?”
My prayer went unanswered, and my mother continued to visit the hospital every morning.”
“On the morning Catherine came home from the hospital, everything started to change. I no longer went to school as my mother didn’t want to risk me picking up a cold or other illness. I stayed at home and helped Mom look after my sister.
The baby was a disappointment. She was nothing like the baby in my nursery rhyme book. That baby was pink, with golden curls and fat, dimpled hands, and feet. My new sister was pale and almost translucent looking. I could see blue veins under her delicate skin, and she had bruises on her head from the drip. Her hands were tiny and clenched and she had no hair at all. When she cried it came out as a faint mewing and I couldn’t see how she would ever be any fun at all. She also took up nearly all of Mom’s time with her numerous feeds, nappy changes, and other needs.”
The entrance of Hayley into my life was unremarkable. We were living on a plot in Honeydew, Johannesburg, and my life was filled with exploration of the tracts of veld that surrounded our house.
Hayley was a howler and I remember my mother walking round and round the sitting room with her while she cried and cried. Her endless crying is how I remember Howling Hayley. She did, of course, grow out of it eventually and became one of my living dolls.
A defining memory I have of Hayley as a baby is one evening when I took the screaming bundle and walked her around to give mom a break. She went to sleep in my arms and Mom and I watched an episode of the television production of She (by Rider Haggard) together. It contained the scene where Ayesha goes into the fire and ages from a young and beautiful woman into a hideous, shrivelled 2,000-year-old woman and then disintegrates into ash. I have never, ever, forgotten that scene and I’ve read the book several times. It is a favourite of mine.
Laura is the youngest and she arrived when I was nine, Catherine was five, and Hayley was one.
Laura’s birth coincided with my family’s relocation from Johannesburg to George in the Western Cape. My grandparents on my father’s side had moved to George a year previously and they had persuaded dad to move to this beautiful city.
Dad drove Catherine, Hayley, and I to George. It was a fourteen-hour drive as frequent “wee” stops had to be made with three small girls in the car. We were driven to George ahead of my parents moving as Mom was heavily pregnant at the time with our new sister. The new baby would be born at the hospital in Johannesburg. We three girls would be cared for by our grandparents for two weeks until my mother was able to make the long car trip.
I loved George. It was totally different from dry and dusty Johannesburg with its violent thunderstorms and frightening lightning and thunder. George was green. There was an abundance of trees, flowers and bushes and it rained a lot of the time.
My grandparents lived in a cottage near the outskirts of the town and their tar road suddenly ended about 1000 metres from their house and became a dirt road and then a dirt track that led into the forest.
The forest was dark and mysterious. Full of huge, tall trees and thick bushes and foliage. We were forbidden from going into the forest on our own as it was easy to get lost amongst so many trees that all looked the same.
Along the sides of the dirt road were trenches where the municipality had been digging. I don’t know why they were digging there but the trenches were so much fun. Catherine and I climbed into the trenches and walked along them, hidden from view.
The bottoms of the trenches were covered in clay. It was deliciously squelchy and sticky, and we loved the feeling of the clay between our bare toes.
One dinner time, I told Granddad Jack about the clay. He said you could make things from it and dry them in the sun. The sun would bake them and make them hard.
What a delight! The very next day, Catherine and I went into one of the trenches and mined for clay. We scooped the clay into a plastic bag and hauled it out of the trench. Very soon, we were sitting on the back doorstep and making all sorts of pots and figurines out of clay. It was a happy time for me.
One morning, Granny Joan said that Mom and Dad were in the car and on their way to George. Catherine and I were excited, but Hayley was too young to understand what was happening.
Eventually, late in the afternoon, the car arrived with both my parents and a very funny looking, wrinkled, and red baby. I got such a fright I ran away. I thought that Laura was the ugliest baby I had ever seen.
Poor little Lu! She looked like that because she had become dehydrated during the long drive.
In retrospect, I was fortunate to grow up in a family with three sisters. We all still live in Johannesburg and our families spend the high days and holidays together.
Thank you, Judith, for giving me this opportunity to share about my memories of my childhood. I’d like to close with this poem I wrote about my sisters for Catherine’s fortieth birthday.
A sister is … by Robbie Cheadle
a thief, stealing attention that is rightfully yours; | a port in a storm, when your house of cards falls; |
a fountain of knowledge – your problems, not hers; | a megaphone whose voice is louder than yours; |
an expert on everything you try for the first time; | a comedian who’ll dance and make you laugh till you cry; |
a cloths horse, ‘specially when she’s borrowed your clothes; | a home where your children are always welcome; |
a confidant with whom you share secrets and hopes; | a purse to help you out of a bind; |
a competitor who always shines brighter than you; | an advisor when your spirit is battered and bruised; |
a shoulder to cry on when life lets you down; | a beauty queen, who’s face is fairer than yours; |
a diary of shared memories, the old and the new; | a voice of reason, when yours has taken a day off; |
a provider of wine, in good times and bad; | an embarrassment who recalls your drunken antics; |
an artist, who’ll make up your face, if you beg; | the best thing anyone could ask for. |
From Open a new door, a collection of poems by Robbie Cheadle and Kim Blades available here: https://www.amazon.com/Open-new-door-collection-poems-ebook/dp/B07K4RRC4W
Author CV – Roberta/Robbie Cheadle
Robbie Cheadle is a South African children’s author and poet with eleven children’s books and two poetry books.
The eight Sir Chocolate children’s picture books, co-authored by Robbie and Michael Cheadle, are written in sweet, short rhymes which are easy for young children to follow and are illustrated with pictures of delicious cakes and cake decorations. Each book also includes simple recipes or biscuit art directions which children can make under adult supervision.
Robbie and Michael have also written Haunted Halloween Holiday, a delightful fantasy story for children aged 5 to 9. Count Sugular and his family hire a caravan to attend a Halloween party at the Haunted House in Ghost Valley. This story is beautifully illustrated with Robbie’s fondant and cake art creations.
Robbie has also published two books for older children which incorporate recipes that are relevant to the storylines.
Robbie has two adult novels in the paranormal historical and supernatural fantasy genres published under the name Roberta Eaton Cheadle. She also has short stories, in the horror and paranormal genre, and poems included in several anthologies.
Robbie Cheadle contributes two monthly posts to https://writingtoberead.com/, namely, Growing Bookworms, a series providing advice to caregivers on how to encourage children to read and write, and Treasuring Poetry, a series aimed at introducing poetry lovers to new poets and poetry books.
In addition, Roberta Eaton Cheadle contributes one monthly post to https://writingtoberead.com/ called Dark Origins: African Myths and Legends which shares information about the cultures, myths and legends of the indigenous people of southern Africa.
Follow Robbie Cheadle at:
Follow Robbie Cheadle at:
Website:
https://www.robbiecheadle.co.za/
Blog
https://robbiesinspiration.wordpress.com/
Twitter
https://twitter.com/bakeandwrite
YouTube
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCVyFo_OJLPqFa9ZhHnCfHUA
Goodreads
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15584446.Robbie_Cheadle
Purchase links:
TSL Publications (paperbacks)
Lulu.com (paperbacks and ebooks)
Amazon US (paperbacks)
https://www.amazon.com/Robbie-Cheadle/e/B01N9J62GQ
Amazon UK (paperbacks)
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Robbie-Cheadle/e/B01N9J62GQ
I love this memory of Robbie’s about her sisters. I had a similar experience, except mine were all brothers (horrors) But love them all dearly too. Thanks, Judith.
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Brothers – horrors!! LOL. And thank you for taking the time to drop by and comment, Darlene. Much appreciated.
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Hi Darlene, I imagine that brothers would not be keen on being living dolls – smile. We had a lovely childhood and I am very lucky.
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Reblogged this on Ed;s Site..
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Many thanks!
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Thanks for sharing, Ed.
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Lovely post, Robbie! Ah, the responsibilities of the eldest child…
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Isn’t it, Steve. Thanks for commenting.
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Hi Steve, I am so pleased you enjoyed my memories. Such lovely times we had as children. I was so very fortunate to have so much freedom growing up, so different from my own sons.
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Hi Steve, thank you, I am glad you enjoyed this post.
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My goodness! I am smiling because this is such a genuine and loving post. But then again, that is who Robbie IS!
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Indeed you are so right, Teagan. I guess, knowing how much she supports other writers, we shouldn’t be surprised she’s a brilliant sister as well. xx
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Hi Judith, thank you, I’m sure they thought I was very bossy [smile].
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HI Annette, thank you, I am so delighted you enjoyed this post. I really adored my little sisters and we had so much fun playing together.
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What an interesting post on the view of new babies in the family from the eldest daughter! I’ve been trying to think of what it was like when my baby brother arrived – I was six and have no memory of it! Maybe because I was in school and he is so much younger? This was wonderful.
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Isn’t it, Noelle!! I was the youngest so had not perspective on younger siblings. I love Robbie’s poem as well. Thank you for dropping by. x
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I am sure it is very different to be the youngest, Judith. I was always the carer and the leader of the pack.
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Hi Noelle, thank you, I am so pleased you enjoyed my memories. I have quite detailed memories of the births of each of my sisters. I have some very funny memories of my dad trying to manage Cath and I when Hayley was born and having to phone his mom to come and help. He gave us melted cheese on bacon for dinner and we were horrified. Hilarious in retrospect.
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HI Judith, thank you for sharing this post and my memories of my sisters when we where young. Writing it was an enjoyable experience for me.
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It’s a ;lovely post, Robbie. Thank you for joking in with Places in our memories. x
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It’s a lovely post, Robbie. Thank you for joining in with Places in our Memories. x
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Lovely! The honesty behind the developing relationships with your siblings resonated with mine. The thought of the 21 houses and 14 schools is terrifying to me and it shows your strength of character in that it didn’t hold you back. I loved that description of the prem baby – such a clear image in my head – and the delights of playing in the clay. Your poem is beautiful and that line ” a voice of reason when yours has taken a day off” will stay with me. Many thanks for this series, Judith. ♥♥
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It’s nice that you’re close with your sisters. My siblings both live far away.
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Pingback: Places in our Memories: With Robbie Cheadle
I enjoyed reading Robbie’s piece from the perspective of opposites. Nice to get a view from the other end of things. She is the oldest of four girls; I am the youngest of four boys.
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A charming story. Perhaps, as an only child, I did miss out on certain things.
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Wonderful post Robbie and Judith and I can imagine the fun you had with that clay and perhaps began your exploration of all things fondant… I was knocked off my pedestal at four when my brother arrived lol.. ♥
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Thank you, Sally. And, yes, the clay onto fondant – just what I thought! xx
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♥
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HI Sally, yes, I am sure yo were. It is a shock for a slightly older child. Even Gregory was very upset when I brought Michael home. I remember him lying on the bed howling and saying “what about me.” So funny now. I was always very artistic, Sally, and have it in my mind to write a ‘my naughty little sister’ style chapter book about all my undertakings as a girl. My desire to create did lead me into some trouble at times.
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Me too Robbie… thank goodness there were no mobile phones or Facebook back in my younger days lol. ♥
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What wonderful recollections of siblings joining your family, Robbie. And I love the poem about what a sister is. Delightful and so true.
Thanks for hosting Robbie, Judith.
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I loved the poem as well, Norah. Many thanks for dropping by.
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My pleasure, Judith.
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Hi Norah, I am very pleased you like that poem. I read it at Cath’s fortieth and each sister had to rise if they thought the point applied to them. It was hilarious. Treasured memories, indeed, and such cute and fun little girls my sisters were.
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What fun that would have been, Robbie. Such a clever way to honor Cath and your other sisters.
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I enjoyed Robbie’s stroll down memory lane with her sisters, as well as “A sister is . . . “
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Thank you, Liz. They are good memories of Robbie’s aren’t they! And I loved her poem, too.
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You’re welcome, Judith. Yes, they are!
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HI Liz, I am glad you enjoyed this post. A sister is was the first metaphorical poem I ever wrote.
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You obviously had good inspiration for it!
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What a really magical and fun insight to your childhood Robbie ….all those inconvenient sisters!!
I had three sisters and two brothers that lived but I was the baby… I wonder what they all thought of me?
Thank you Judith for hosting Robbie 💜
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What a wonderful story about your baby sister. I can see the world through your young eyes so well.
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Thank you for dropping by and commenting, Jacqui.
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Hi Liz, I am pleased to know that. It isn’t always easy to pitch writing at a ‘child’s eyes’ level so I appreciate your comment. I left out the fact that I pinched poor Cath as she lay in her cot. What a mean girl I was. I still feel bad about it because I remember it clearly.
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Oops, sorry Jacqui, that was a brain slip because I just responded to Liz.
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Hi Judith and Robbie, what a wonderful post and walk down Robbie’s memory lane. And a beautiful sister poem. ❤️
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Thanks for sharing your memories Robbie. I remember when my younger brother came home from the hospital vividly. In fact it may be my first memory. ( k )
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HI Kerfe, I think the advent of Catherine into my life is one of my clearest early memories too. Perhaps we remember because of the big impact.
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I love this memory Robbie shared. I can understand all the emotions. But what a bond they all shared! Thanks, Judith.
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So nice to learn more about Robbie and love the closing family photo
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So nice to see Robbie featured here today. I enjoyed learning a bit about her growing up years. Funny isn’t it how differently little ones receive their younger siblings. I also loved the poem about sisters. Hugs to both ❤
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Robbie, your experiences are so real and vivid. Love them. I can’t imagine having three sisters. I have two and three brothers all much younger than I. Like you, I went to many schools as a child, never made friends, and I was a loner too. My father was in the army, and living overseas was something we did often – constantly moving. I can empathise with you and your childhood. Yours sounded wonderful in spite of the constant change of schools. Thanks for sharing.
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Robbie writes about her memories so well, doesn’t she Jane. Many thanks for dropping by to comment.
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She does indeed.
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HI Jane, you came from a large family. I enjoyed my sisters very much and I played with them a lot. I don’t recall being particularly phased about not having a lot of friends although I did find some moves hard. Not all children are welcoming and kind to newcomers, especially as you get older. I have a lot of freedom as a child and spent time with my Granny who taught me how to make all sorts of amazing things like dolls houses and paper dolls and shortbread. I was her favourite grandchild.
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That sounds wonderful, how fortunate. It sounds a great experience. I am much older than my siblings and was likfe their other mum, as i had to look after them all the time. We have nothing in common at all. Still don’t. They formed their little circle as they are all 2 years apart and that is how it is. Paperdolls and shortcake sounds fab. xx
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A terrific telling of your memories, Robbie. Thanks, Judith for having Robbie on your blog today.
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What a beautiful post from Robbie. I could have kept reading all day. I was mesmerized by her memories of her sisters – the good, the funny, and the red-wrinkly. How fun to in the clay from the trench and make things on the back step (something I occasionally think of doing in our clay-thick soil here.) Thanks, Robbie, for sharing a bit of your childhood, and many thanks to Judith for hosting. ❤
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It is a wonderful post, isn’t it, Diana! Many thanks for taking the time to read and comment. xx
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I was totally drawn in, Judith. Thanks again for hosting our friend. 😀
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So enjoyed reading Robbie’s memories, Diana. x
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HI Diana, I am so pleased you enjoyed this post. It is funny that I remember Laura all red and wrinkly so well. She turned into such a beautiful child.
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You’re welcome. It was a beautiful post. I loved reading about your memories.
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I loved all your memories and sweet pictures, Robbie.
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I can’t imagine moving 21 times before you’re 18! I bet your family became experts at it. Your memories are so funny and charming, even in difficult times. Great post!
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It was totally my pleasure, Diana. x
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I really enjoyed this story of your younger years, Robbie. Thank you so much for opening up and sharing! Thank you, Judith, for hosting. 🙂
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I’ve always wished for sisters, and now that you all are adults, you’re so lucky to have each other, the memories, and the time together. But… as a child that was quite a household and a lot of work for you, Robbie. Definitely formed you into the wonderful woman you are now.
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They are such good memories. And Robbie is brilliant, isn’t she!
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Robbie, what amazing memories to have. Judith, thank you for hosting her. Hugs to you both.
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You all look beautiful to me 🙂
Enjoyed learning more about your childhood memories, Robbie. Trips to our grandparent’s homes are the best!
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Such good memories, Jacquie.
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Thank you so much, Sally. x
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Reblogged this on NEW BLOG HERE >> https:/BOOKS.ESLARN-NET.DE.
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What a lovely post, with many great experiences around a sibling clan. 😉 We are also four siblings, but don’t ask me why we are not came close together, as you and your sisters did. This way my congratulations! Best wishes, Michael
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Reblogged this on charles french words reading and writing and commented:
Here is a wonderful post about the talented writer, Robbie Cheadle!
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Thank you so much for commenting and sharing Robbie’s post, Charles.
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Hi Robbie, this is wonderful!
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Such poignant memories, Robbie. And the poem says it all! Thank you, Judith for spotlighting Robbie here today!
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sibling stories!
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Indeed, Beth!
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I am an only child, so I’ve always been fascinated by other people’s stories about their siblings. This is a lovely post by Robbie, and her childhood sounds delightful, even with all the moves (that must have been unsettling). Thanks for featuring another great post, Judith.
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It is a great post by Robbie, isn’t it, Olga! I’m loving these memories. x
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A lovely post by Robbie. It read like a story. The poem is beautiful and rings so true when I think of my sister. Having four must have been fun after the initial competition that’s true in all sibling relationships. Thank you, Judith, for this feature on memories.
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Thank you for reading and commenting. x
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Judith, I got your book, ‘Sisters’. I’m looking forward to beginning reading it🙂.
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