Birth of a blog.

Well, after much prodding and coaxing from family and friends I have started a blog. I don't know how  interesting my literary meanderings will be, but I'm told that this can be very therapeutic; anyway here goes.  My first problem it would seem, not being the computer whiz that my son is or that even my grandson is, for Pete's sake, is that I cannot move this darn  THING down to begin a new paragraph, so until I can work this out, this piece will look like one long paragraph..
OK. got it now.
My kids seem to think that my experiences  and memories are worth documenting but others will be the judge of that no doubt. I was born in Derry City (formerly Londonderry, formerly Derry--it's an Irish thing, I'll explain later) October 8 1940, at 28 Chamberlain Street, the same house that my mother and my three uncles and two aunts  and five cousins were born, and we all lived there together until two of my cousins, Adelaide and Geraldine, moved to London England with their mother, my aunt Vera, and her husband Ted, a native Londoner, in 1945 when the war ended, - that's World War 2. When my Father returned from the war, he, my mother and now my year-old sister Veronica and I moved to the new pre-fabricated houses that sprung up in the U.K. after the war, thereby making us suburbanites, a new word in 1946, and where I would spend the next 10 marvelous years.