More notes from the madhouse

I appreciate this is becoming a little self-indulgent so I promise it is the last. Whilst packing away the original prints from the previous post I came across this one which I had completely forgotten.  There is something weird going on here, like the Munsters go mad on holiday.  To the left Uncle is stood to attention in his flat cap, as though about to preach a sermon, oblivious to the chaos around him. Unique in my experience, my sister has adopted my patent Quasimodo pose whilst the bemused cousin is backing off in fear of this strange girl’s antics. Aunt is hiding in the shadows of her monstrous Jaguar SS, too sozzled to emerge.  Mother, washerwoman arms folded (her description not mine), is in earnest conversation with Pop who, if I remember correctly, was stone-deaf.  I am of course putting on another performance – Dad is hiding behind the camera, probably the Brownie 127. It is a wonder  we all survived – everyone agreed, it was a miracle indeed:

7 go mad