Dave, without you I would never have known what a Queen Anne or 3-seater wing chair cover looked like. All the shoes and socks and teeshirts. It was obvious when the shop was in town because the whole of Worcester - man, woman or child  - whole families of varying sizes - suddenly appeared from nowhere sporting ‘Cliff Richard Tour 1984’ teeshirts – in 1989! Or Joe Jackson. Some could even be spotted hobbling about in blue and white clogs. You improved the fashion of Worcester considerably. I remember cold mornings at 5 am getting up to go to a warehouse cinema in Handsworth to load boxes. Sharing your and viv’s cigarettes. Shooting pigeons that nested in the roof and crapped upon us and the boxes below. All the coffees with chicory in it. You explaining to me what a ‘wooly back’ was. Then the drive back to The Vine for pints and pool. And how, when the only time I beat you at pool, you blamed the cue. How you cleanly parted your hair and took your neatly folded newspaper to the pub. The way you’d put your hand behind your ear and tilt your head if something sounded fishy. When you tapped at your watch if someone was more than 1.5 seconds late. How, when watching Liverpool, you’d leap and dive half way across the lounge as if it was you, not the goalie, who was going save that game-saving shot at goal! That Chinese restaurant in Barbourne you adored. And how though you were tough and didn’t suffer fools, you had a tender love for your garden. And that you generously paid for us to eat out in Cyprus and let us stay there twice. Most of all, I recall visiting you and Viv one day a few years back and drinking in the kitchen. This day we talked about your kids. Despite your natural dismissiveness, you just couldn’t hide how proud you were of the people they had become. Dave, you were clever, funny and often overbearing. But you were never boring.

One year I made Dad a birthday card, comparing him to the TV gardener Percy Thrower. He thought it was very funny, so I made him another one the next year.
From then on the only thing he really wanted was a home made card.

Tam got involved with the card making, and we spent many a frustrated evening wracking our brains to come up with ideas, as Dad was quite happy to let us know if the cards weren't funny enough. As now we were making them twice a year - for birthday and Christmas, it was sometimes hard work but always worth the effort when they hit the spot!

Dad had his infamous 'going back pile', which he would love to get as many of our presents in that he didn't like as possible (we always had to keep the receipts!), so it was great to have the cards to give him that were personal and he loved!

Saying I was out of my league playing pool with David is a huge understatement. I am pleased if I get one in the pocket, whereas he would think several shots ahead and always play a clever tactical game. 

The idea of playing with me must have been quite dull for him, but instead of making it a whitewash when we were playing one day, he thought ahead for my benefit. Instead of snookering me on every go, or potting them all straight away, he calculatedly and skillfully set me up for every shot, placing the balls so that I had the easiest shots in the world! It didn’t take me long to realize what he was doing and I had the giggles for much of the game as miraculously I always started my go at a perfect angle and only a few inches from the pocket. It was sweet, gracious, clever and very funny!!