"I'm playing cowb's, Mum!"

I am travelling back in time now, through the foggy mists of memory. My Aunt Joan was married in 1951 at the Anglican Cathedral in what was then Salisbury, Southern Rhodesia. She had one bridesmaid, three flowergirls and two page boys. My sisters and I were the flowergirls and two cousins the page boys.
Our dresses were so cute! Full length with pointy puffed sleeves, with two belts at the waist which were fashioned into a sweet little bow over our bottoms. A coronet of flowers in our hair and a posy of fresh flowers completed the ensemble. The fabric was grainy to touch, but shiny and exotic. Mine was pale green, not milky and insipid. I thought it was gorgeous! At five years old, I was already a confirmed tomboy, so that was saying a lot! My eldest sister's was pale pink and my next oldest sister's a light blue. We were all very satisfied with the colours we'd been allocated - our favourite colours.

The wedding reception was held at the Old Forces Club, Hatfield, set amongtst huge granite boulders which held a particular allure for us children. It seems we played the ever popular 'Cowboys and Indians'. I loved that game! The dresses Mum made for me always had the tie belts and they doubled as spendid reigns if I needed to be a horse in an action piece.
At some point I found it necessary to return to my Mothers side. I was probably hungry or thirsty. It was ever thus with children. My Mother recalls the moment with clarity, for it left her aghast. The coronet and posy were long gone. The bodice of my dress was detached from the skirt and holes worn in the fabric where it had been crushed against the bounders, leaving a black residue. My Mother, who was a good dressmaker, was unable to salvage the dress. Washing never dislodged the black marks and no darning could fix the scraped holes! Looking at me in disbelief that I could have wrought so much damage in so little time, she asked "What have you been doing?!"
"I've been playing cowb's, Mum," I bubbled happily.