Mum lifted the teapot and poured us both a cup of tea. She set it down then said the magic words, That reminds me. Sometimes those words were followed by a chuckle; sometimes they were followed by a quiet sigh. They were always followed by a story. I knew whenever Mum said those words I was about to be transported to a time and place in her past. A few months ago my local super market started carrying the brand of tea we drank back in the early 1950's. I bought a box, took it home and brewed up a 'pot of tea.' As I filled my cup a familiar aroma filled the air. I found myself thinking, That reminds me. Memories of cold, damp winters and hot humid summers drifted past as I sipped my tea. It was a time when the adults were busy each day trying to regain some degree of rmalcy in their lives. England was still struggling to rebuild the damaged infrastructure caused by six years of war. A war that felt very real to me even though I never experienced it. I remember the last of the rationing and watching flights of Spitfires flying overhead. Jet aircraft were still very new and a somewhat rare sight. As young as I was, with Spitfires flying overhead it wasn't hard to identify with the RAF of WWII. Mum's life was influenced by wars, from World War I through Viet Nam. These are her stories, so pour yourself a cup of tea; curl up with a plate of tea biscuits and allow Mum to say, 'Oh, that reminds me, ' one more time.