Somebody told me it was May. Goodness how time flies. And see I have no shame - here is me aged six when I was a May Queen attendant. That was quite a dubious honour at the time, at least for our mothers who had to make the dresses. Materials were still short as rationing had not long ended, so things had to begged and borrowed. My mother made the dress - all hand-stitched until late into the night - and I was so thrilled to have such a pretty dress. My tiara was a plastic cake doiley lent from his shop window by the local baker, as was the holder around my posy. I squeezed into the year before's Whitsun sandals (thank goodness for peek-toes!) on what was rather a wet and windy May Day. The picture was taken in the school yard (walls blackened with smoke before anyone ever dreamt there would be a Clean Air Act) where we danced, maypoleless since they are hard to plant in asphalt, and where there was a procession of children on their trikes, bikes and scooters all decorated with Christmas trimmings!