This Blog is for the exclusive writings of Sir Bainbridge Ross.
Where do I begin? Perhaps at the beginning. I was born a small child, a baby in fact, about the year 1921. I say about, because I don't really know when, or where for that matter. I suppose my adventure started there, at the beginning of it all. My mother is someone I don't know, and have never known. I never knew my father as well. My adventure started with one.
I grew up by the good graces of my Mother's estate. I inherited much from my parentage, including the wealth on which I live, so there is no means for you, the reader, to feel that my childhood was some melancholy affair. No, I was rich, but yes, because I was lonely.
My days were spent running around the old manor in which I lived with my servant Manfred, an old German Butler, and Rachel, my Mother's sister, and technically my aunt, but I didn't like to call her that. She being a prickly person.
Where do I begin? Perhaps at the beginning. I was born a small child, a baby in fact, about the year 1921. I say about, because I don't really know when, or where for that matter. I suppose my adventure started there, at the beginning of it all. My mother is someone I don't know, and have never known. I never knew my father as well. My adventure started with one.
I grew up by the good graces of my Mother's estate. I inherited much from my parentage, including the wealth on which I live, so there is no means for you, the reader, to feel that my childhood was some melancholy affair. No, I was rich, but yes, because I was lonely.
My days were spent running around the old manor in which I lived with my servant Manfred, an old German Butler, and Rachel, my Mother's sister, and technically my aunt, but I didn't like to call her that. She being a prickly person.
