Now a diminutive senior -- but don’t try telling her that -- M.C. Kenessey has written a warm, funny, charming and touchingly perceptive recounting of her experiences as a child during the war and post-war years in Britain. Well worth reading because: “It’s good for a giggle!”
A London child of World War II, M.C. Kenessey survived the horrors of the bombing, moving to Canada in her early twenties, where she then survived the horrors of working in a government typing pool. Single and virginal (as she tells it, a girl had little other option when raised, minus male siblings, in the Catholic educational system) she then met the love of her life, becoming a wife and mother. Her introduction to writing came about as a young copy typist in London’s Fleet Street in the days when it was still the hub of Britain’s newspaper world.
She loves dancing and is convinced that in a former life she was either a belly dancer or a passionate exponent of flamenco. In any future incarnation, she hopes to return as a dictator since the world is obviously in need of someone who can tell all idiots where to go.