He just was.
Stories of his eccentricities are many. A favourite of mine was some gentle advice he gave me over breakfast in my home, a few years before he died. This was a Sunday morning...bear in mind that I had, in the previous week, accompanied him to Italy to see my bro' and family. Navigated the airports for him, stayed in the only hotel he would consider, adjusted my time-clock to his (breakfast, morning cocktails in the square...etc), negotiated taxis and seatbelts, opened his sugar-sachets...
Returned him safely to Stansted, picked up by A. who had managed the household in my absence ...
And now I was doing his breakfast - 13 grapes, half a glass of apple juice, AllBran + wholemilk and sugar, then half a slice of toast + butter and honey, then half a cup of strong tea. All the while preparing something to leave for dinner that Ben (a struggling teen-ager) could/would eat, as I was about to drive Dad home to Devizes. Etc...
"If you don't mind me saying" Dad ventured "I do think you pander to Ben's little eccentricities somewhat..."
Dad, generally a conventional, though scruffy dresser of his generation, sported huge, brightly-coloured spotty hankies.
When we cleared out the house after he died, there was an unused packet, which I have had ever since.
I knew they would come in handy, one day...
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