Having read about Mick's insect-collecting exploits in foreign parts, it brought to mind an image from the past.  In the garden of 18PW (home), armed with what Mick called his Pooter, (a small bottle with 2 small copper tubes in its lid, one attached to a rubber tube, the other angled away) he would search for any unsuspecting black dot that was flying about. By sucking on the rubber tube the insect was drawn into the bottle through the metal tube.  Mick would hover around the rockery, darting hither and thither, in order to capture his prey.  What happened to these hapless creatures afterwards, remains a mystery to me.

Another picture that emerges is of our very early scouting days.  Our Senior Scout, Ray, told his small troop of six scouts (including Mick and me) to assemble on the overgrown garden at the back of the local hostelry.  We were to clear the area as this would be good work experience for us. Armed with a pick-axe, shovels and forks, we set about the task with gusto. Mick wielded the pick-axe in an attempt to remove the brambles.  Ray, leading from behind, stood too close to Mick who, swinging his pick-axe over his shoulder, connected with Ray's forehead in the process.  In spite of the expletives, no serious physical damage was done and the troop also gained experience in first aid. We successfully completed the task and the incident with the pick-axe became a subject of humour ever after! 

Christine and I will always remember with fondness, Mick's sharp sense of humour, his overwhelming enthusiasm for his chosen subject, his stories about his caving exploits and, most of all, the pride he and Judy so obviously felt for their children and grandchildren. 

George