I can't remember the first occasion that I went to our Doctor's house .
It was huge and Victorian .
The front had a massive sweeping drive .
It had an incredible garden laid out with climbing roses on trellises in a formal pattern at the back.
She kept some sort of dangerous wild cat as a pet .I'm sure that it was illegal .
Born in colonial Africa ,she was loud , bossy and rather frightening.She used to say ,"stuff and nonsense ."
Most comments that my mother made were dismissed .
My Grandma thought that she was a tartar .
I recall her pen and ink and her elegant hand writing .
She always worn tweed suits with Thatcher type pussy cat bow at the neckline.
Our Doctor made house calls without a fuss.
The waiting room was so dark even on a sunny day . It had huge pictures and very heavy brown damask curtains.
Thinking about it everything was brown-the woodwork and the skirting boards .
There was no receptionist and you waited your turn . There was always a huge pile of dog - eared magazines-hard to read in the gloom.
If you were very sick -someone would say excuse me ,but would you like to go in front of me.
I think that we were intimidated by her .
By as I grew older I found that she made some very serious errors.
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