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Memories: …Now I am 6 I am as clever as clever! PART ONE. I was 5, going on 6 by the time I started my 2nd Primary School. There were 2 infant classes and 3 junior classes. My teacher was lovely and the class was light and airy. We had tables instead of desks and there were interesting things around the classroom. We still had the same mile walk to get to the main road and then we would catch a National bus for a couple of miles. It would drop us at a junction, where we would catch the school coach. The National bus was notoriously inconsistent and we could be standing for ages waiting for the coach, or we would miss it. If we were running a bit late ourselves, Dad would sometimes take us down to the bottom of the Lane in the Land-Rover. One day, we arrived to discover the National bus had already gone, so Dad drove us to the coach stop, only to see it pull away as we were approaching. Much to all our embarrassment, Dad chased the coach hooting his horn wildly until the bus driver responded and stopped at the next scheduled stop. We all clambered aboard amongst much discussion from the other children! The school did have a school uniform, but very few of us wore it. However, I did get a second-hand green blazer from someone, with the school emblem on and the best bit of all was that it had a secret zip pocket, on the inside left of the jacket. In it I kept a shiny thru’ penny bit, a little pink shell and a conker. 😊 Mum had given me a love of literature, but at this school my world was opened up to so many different types of books and I soaked them up eagerly. It was here that I first came across Dr. Seuss. I liked, “A fly went by,” “The King, the Mice and the Cheese” and my favourite, “Green eggs and ham.” I would read them again and again and loved the humour and rhyme. The Blackberry Farm books were also much-loved, as was Beatrix Potter… particularly, “Peter Rabbit.”. My school report mentions my love of reading. 😊

Memories: Starting School aged 4 Part TWO Mum made sure we could all read before we started school. She started us with the “ladybird” series of “Peter and Jane.” I know Mark was reading 8a before he started, but I can’t recall how far I had achieved. Mum also taught us to write, but using capitals instead of lower case, so I had to relearn them. Certain letters I had difficulty with and “e” in particular, so Mrs N, my teacher, made up a rhyme for me, “Daddy’s going to town; Oh, Daddy’s forgotten something, he has to go all the way back home again.” It worked and I have used similar ideas myself to help children form their letters. My first piece of homework was to learn a Nursery Rhyme off by heart. I didn’t want to learn the common ones, so chose a more unusual one… Molly, my sister And I, fell out, And what do you think It was all about? She liked coffee, And I liked tea, And that was the reason We couldn’t agree! I was commended by my teacher and as I enjoyed learning and reciting it so much, I decided to learn another one… Rat-a-tat-tat, “Who is that?” “Only Grandma’s pussy cat.” “What do you want?” “A pint of milk.” “Where’s your money?” “In my pocket.” “Where’s your pocket?” “I forgot it!” “Oh you silly pussy cat!” Whenever it came to PE, I was always the last one out on to the field because I couldn’t tie my dap laces. Sometimes I’d ask an older child to do them for me, but as I had no friends, they didn’t always oblige and I would stand their crying. One day after much fiddling, I achieved it, but then couldn’t remember the next time how I had done it! 😊 For assembly and dinner time, we would have to go over to the main Victorian classroom, where the chairs and desks had been cleared away. At dinner time my brother sat on a different table than me and I would have to pluck up enough courage to go over to him to get some orange squash from his blue, plastic, Tupperware container. I felt very self-conscious, as everyone else would be sitting down. One day we had rice pudding for pudding, which I have always hated, so I refused to eat it. The Headmistress said I had to sit there the whole lunch time until I had finished it. I was still sitting there when all the children came back in for their lessons an hour and a half later! The tables had not been allowed to be replaced, so the children stood around the room and watched me sitting there refusing to eat. The Headmistress tried to force it into my mouth, but I continued to reject it; so in her frustration she shouted at me, smacked me on my leg and I left the room in tears. The poem, “What is the [...]

Memories: Starting School aged 4 Part One I don’t particularly remember my older brother not being with us during the day, but for two and a half years he must have attended school on his own. Then after one Easter and at the beginning of the term I was five, it was my turn! I wasn’t prepared for the event and hadn’t attended any playgroups or pre-visits. School was about 2 miles away and meant we had to walk the first mile down a country Lane on our own every day to catch a cream minibus to the school. The bus had slatted wooden seats, which were very uncomfortable, but thankfully we only had a little way to travel. The school consisted of two classes, Infants and Juniors. The Headmistress took the Juniors and Mrs N, the Infants. The Juniors were in the old school house and the Infants in a pre-fab classroom opposite it and next to a field. There were outdoor lavatories connected to the main building, with wooden doors which had gaps at the top and bottom, so the wind would whistle underneath and around you! In between the two buildings was a tarmac area which we used to play on. It sloped down from South to North, and at the bottom under an ancient tree, stood an old, black Austin car. We were allowed to play in it and turn the knobs and press the buttons, which was very exciting. I had never seen so many children in one place before and I was totally bemused by all the noise and faces. I don’t recall ever making a friend at that school. In the early days at playtimes, I would just stand in the playground and watch the other children. I didn’t seem to know how to play their games. Occasionally I would laugh at some game, but I still was just an observer. Gradually I gained in confidence, as I remember running down the slope and playing in the car. In class I played in the shop, and with the sand, water and paint. I loved these practical activities and had a fascination for the colour red. I don’t know whether it’s something I was born with or I developed. It is quite possible that red was the first colour I used when I was painting and I became transfixed by the vibrant quality of it on the white page. Any board game I played in subsequent years, I’d always choose the red counter or artefact. 😊

Awe and Wonder – Exploring and Discovering As soon so I could crawl, walk and run, I explored my environs. Everything was new and wondrous. Every new venture, meant I discovered something I had never seen before. I saw daffodil shoots pierce leaves so perfectly; an old Autumnal leaf, now a complete white, filigree skeleton; a robin, hop up to my feet, cocking its head to look at me; the rich wood brown of a conker as it first falls from the soft creamy, velvet interior; standing beneath a stately Beech, with the sunlight flowing through new translucent, pale green leaves. It was as if they were stained glass windows, shedding their brilliant light upon me and beyond. Then there were the scents; the warm earth of a wood, after Summer rain; a heady nectar from carpets of bluebells; the pungency from rolled Nasturtium leaves on a warm garden wall and the way a droplet of water is captured in the centre of the leaf; wood smoke from a fire and Mum’s cooking. I loved to listen to the sounds from a chattering brook, which never ceased its melody; the rushing wind, racing through the trees, or just rustling them; whistling telegraph wires; wind howling down the chimney; the flutter of bird’s wings when disturbed; the call of the pheasant and cuckoo and the dawn chorus, where every bird wants to praise his maker. The beauty of creation around me stayed deep within my heart, so that I can recall all the sights, scents and sounds again with great joy. 😊

Childhood Memories: Dens (Aged 3-6) One of my favourite dens was the interior of a Rhododendron bush we had situated on a bank on the left of the drive. I believe my elder brother discovered it, but it became a great den for us all. Once we had crawled through a gap, only visible to a child’s eye, the centre opened up into a small room. The floor was strewn with the thick glossy leaves and dry brown earth. The branches were positioned so that you could climb them and survey the interior below, or climb that bit higher and peek through the canopy to the world outside. The vistas were amazing. As we looked out at the world below, we felt like we were flying. It was a place where you could be alone, and allow your thoughts to wander. However, we often went there to play. We would become different characters, albeit very stereotyped. Before my younger sister was born, I would play the role of mother and my older brother was the father and my younger brother we named John. I expect it was from the Janet and John books. We also took on jobs to go with our characters. The boys would climb the branches and pretend to paint the walls and ceiling and I would pretend to make dinner and use the glossy leaves as knives, forks and spoons and old, rotten wood would be our stew. Then I would call them for dinner. As my brother got older, he started his own den further a-field, high up on the hills above our house. He made it from existing bushes and planks of wood and branches for a roof. It was a den strictly for boys and I was banned. One day as the four of us went for a walk with Mum over the top, we found it in tatters and were to discover the hunt had ridden through it and had completely destroyed it! As the boys had their own den, I sought one and discovered a large cavernous pit, which I made into a den. One day I asked my mother what had caused this pit and she must have said that it could have been a bomb. I had no concept whatsoever what a bomb was, but from then on it was known as my bomb-pit. I always remember my Godmother visiting one day with her family and I innocently said to everyone, “Let’s go to my bomb pit.” I remember the shock on my Godmother’s face and the hurried explanation of my Mother! (The photograph shows the rhododendron bushes behind us, where we had our den. My Godmother is to the far left. I am in the red cardigan and looking towards my father, who was bringing my brother from his nap!)

Good morning, everyone, This photograph shows the three of us before my sister was born. 😊 We would be about 18 months, 2½ and 5 years old. An early game my elder brother played with me and my younger brother when we were toddlers, was a game aptly named “Boo!”  My younger brother and I would hide under the same bed each time and my elder brother would come along acting as if he didn’t know we were there. Then we would jump out at him and shout "Boo.” He would then do a mock shocked exclamation and do a dramatic fall, and it would have us in stitches and we’d ask him to do it again and again. It was such a simple game, but we enjoyed it so much. As we grew older, we knew we had to keep quiet, so this developed into hide and seek. Our house had ample places for us to run and hide and was a favourite pass time, especially on days we couldn’t go outside. We deployed tactics to fool a sibling. We would open a door loudly, to make out we were in a particular part of the house and then stealthily travel to a different place. Sometimes we could wait for ages, which would allow time for thoughts to wander, or to listen intently and survey the immediate area. I would hear a distant noise of a sibling being found, or the seeker trying to climb the stairs without making them creek. Then everything would be still and quiet again. I would then watch the specks of dust caught in the sun shaft from a window. I was fascinated as they floated in and out of the beam, before suddenly being propelled into a frenzy, when a draught entered the room from a distant opened door, or from a child rushing into the room. The silence would then be disturbed too, and all wandering thoughts would vanish as quickly as the specks of dust from the sun-light.

Craft and Games as Infants: PART TWO Good morning everyone, One of our craft activities was making pictures from old match sticks. Usually, we would just arrange them into a picture but on occasion we’d stick them on to the back of a cereal box. These cereal boxes were our only regular source of cardboard other than shoe-boxes. One of the books I treasured was a Ladybird book: Things to Make. It showed you how to make things made from card, and a favourite was a “whizzer,” It was a rectangular piece of card, which we coloured and had string threaded through in a loop. This was then held between our hands and rotated until the string was completely twisted. We would pull our hands apart, like a concertina and this would make the card spin and hum. The colours would have a rainbow effect or merge, but if the holes weren’t centred correctly or the cardboard was too thin, then the card would fall at an angle, instead of being horizontal and wouldn’t spin, which was very frustrating. My elder brother also had the next book: ‘More things to Make.’ I recall him making a Chinese wallet, which fascinated me no end. It was made from card and ribbons and you could sandwich paper things under the ribbons by opening and shutting it in different ways. My Father even showed us how to do it with a large green pound note!

Craft and Games as Infants: PART ONE For most of our play-time, my siblings and I would entertain ourselves, but sometimes on wet days Mum would get out art and craft things for us to do. Our paints were old watercolours in a large tin, purchased at a local jumble sale. We would have water in a jam-jar or old meat paste jar and paint anything we liked. I did try painting in a favourite colouring book about elves, pixies and fairies, but I discovered it would ruin the picture on the reverse, so I didn’t do it again! We would sometimes try and copy pictures from books, until one disastrous day I knocked over the jam-jar of water all over a book! 😊 Once, Mum cut us half a potato each and with a blunt knife, we were allowed to cut out a shape, such as a triangle or square. We would happily make prints in various colours across the page. Then in Autumn, we did leaf prints. We would coat the back of the leaves, where the veins protruded with paint and press hard on to the page. The knack was not to use too much paint. I was fascinated with the effect. My scrap book was one of my favourite activities. We would cut out pictures from old magazines and stick them in with flour and water paste, which acted as a glue. The pictures were not always special, because they were magazines for adults, but it didn’t seem to matter. On one of my pages, I had a red sports car and a plate of baked beans on toast! We also used this flour and water type glue for our Brook Bond Tea cards. We had different books for all the categories, like cars, flowers, trees, and people. I still have some of them, but we hardly ever completed a whole book. On some of the cards I can still see the white caked flour and water paste oozing out from the sides. All these decades later, the glue of the flour and water paste is still steadfast! 😊

Memories of Grandma: Part Three On sunny days, Grandma would be outside with her wooden wash tub, wash-board, a large cream mangle and wide gypsy pegs. Her hands would be red in the water, from the heat and all the rubbing. Then once rinsed, she would lift the clothes to feed into the mangle, and if they were small items, I’d catch them as they came through the other side. I was fascinated to watch all the water squeeze out on to the ground. It often splashed up against my little legs. As I grew, I could turn the handle, but if the clothes were too thick, it was beyond the strength I had in my arms. I recall Grandma had some chickens, as I remember them clucking around my feet when I was helping her with the mangle. When work was done, she would wear her straw hat and sit out on an upright creamy coloured, canvas chair, which folded in on itself. It was like an upright deckchair. If we were to have a tumble, which as children we were apt to do rather frequently, then Grandma had a round flat tin of pink Germoline cream, which she would smear over the graze. Its distinctive smell, even now I associate with those times. Grandma had a lovely garden. I particularly recall the geraniums, hydrangeas, nasturtiums and large poppies.  In amongst the flowers were a few little statues. There were at least two animals, of a squirrel and a rabbit and a lady in green and cream, in some art deco pose. Grandma would ask me to collect all the nasturtium seeds, which had fallen to the ground each Summer, as she said my little fingers were just right for the job. Every time we left Grandma’s we would always say goodbye to Kip too and I recall the last time vividly.  I gave him a big hug. We were told that Kip had a lump on his shoulder, which was cancerous (that would have been the first time I heard the word… cancer.) It was a very sad day when we had the phone call to say that Kip had died. Within a short time, Grandma died too. She was the first family member that I knew who died. It was deemed we children were too young to go to the funeral, so I never felt I’d said Goodbye. As we were clearing out her bungalow I saw on her windowsill in the kitchen, a papier mâché plant holder, which I had made for her one Christmas. I recall the fun I had making it and then painting it in zig-zag patterns. I had put one of Dad’s spider plants inside. But now it looked forlorn and totally pot-bound. The papier mâché pot was barely holding together, and my painting, faded and water stained.  It had never been repotted in all the time she had it. But it had meant so much to her, as her eldest [...]

Memories of Grandma: Part Two Good morning everyone, this is part two of three, about memories of my Grandmother. If any of us asked our Grandmother how old she was, she would reply, "As old as my tongue and a little bit older than my teeth."  For it was impolite to ask a lady her age. Once we understood the meaning behind the words, we would ask her, just so she could come out with her phrase again; and then we'd exclaim, "Oh Grandma!" and smile. I recall Grandma telling me, that there were certain other things that ladies should not do …like run or whistle, and we were always on our best behaviour in her company, because she had our respect. Grandma was very much of the era, that you never threw anything away and you tried to be as resourceful as possible with what things you did have. So, when she went to do some grocery shopping, she would keep all the brown paper bags and hang them on a hook in the bathroom… for personal use! In emergencies, when she'd run out of bags, she'd have a roll of "tracing paper" type toilet paper. Up until she died, she never did progress to softer paper. As Grandma had poor eye sight due to glaucoma, she would sometimes wear a patch over one eye and use a large magnifying glass to read the newspaper and do the newspaper crossword. (I still have her magnifying glass.) In the Living Room where we would sit with her, was an old sofa with a floral cover to hide its state. I recall finding old pennies which had fallen down the sides, and being told I could keep them. A few years later, I saw a radiogram appear, which stood on the top of a small television, and on top of the radio was a tin of barley sugars and a date calendar. To be allowed a barley sugar, was a great treat, but we knew we should never ask and wait to be invited to have one. Above the fire was a sizable mirror, which hung with heavy chains, and filling nearly the entire left wall, was a display cabinet. It housed all her glass-wear and pottery, which she had collected, or had been handed down by her parents. Adjacent to the cabinet, was a large studio portrait of my Father, which was taken before any of us were born. The wooden dining room table, was pushed up against the wall and was outsized for the room and heavy. It housed a substantial glass bowl, which was filled with fruit, and boxes of chocolates at Christmas time. We always knew they would be there at that time of the year; they were as familiar, as the pieces of furniture in her room. We only lived near my Grandmother for the first few years of my life. Afterwards, we would travel down about once a month. One year, as it was [...]

Memories of Grandma: Part One Good morning, everyone, The trips across to Grandma’s, I usually took with my younger brother, as there were only 14 months between us. At some preschool age, we would climb the steep steps to Grandma's bungalow, which was opposite our house, and be welcomed by Kip. Kip was a cross between an Alsatian and Collie. He absolutely loved us children and was born around the same time as my younger brother. As we entered her hall-way, she would hang our coats on some pegs, next to a riding crop, two walking sticks, Kip’s dog lead, and a straw hat. (Grandma must have ridden horses in her youth.) About once a week we would have tea with Grandma, of boiled egg and soldiers, which always seemed such a treat. I am sure it was Grandma who showed us how to turn over an egg when you had finished it, to fool a sibling that they still had a whole egg, or you’d been given an extra one! Afterwards, we would kneel at the coffee table, or sit on a floral pouffe and Grandma would get out her old pack of playing cards from a tobacco tin. She would teach us the different symbols on a pack of cards. I recall the spades and clubs being the hardest names to remember. I still have the cards today. 😊 Once we knew the symbols, she would teach us to play simple games such as snap, or old maid. Grandma also taught me how to French knit. She had an old cotton reel with four short nails tapped into the top; then using a small metal spike, Grandma would start me off and I would wrap the wool around the back of a nail and lift the old thread over. I cannot remember ever doing anything with this long snake like knitting, but it kept me out of mischief! In those days wool was bought in skeins and the recipient had to roll it into balls. So instead of using the back of a chair, if one of us children were to hand, we would hold our hands wide, as if we were playing cats-cradle and she would wind the wool off our hands and into a ball. It was fine for a while, but my arms ached if it took too long. Grandma was very Victorian, well dressed and was always seen wearing a piece of jewellery, such as a brooch. She would also have somewhere on her person, a lace handkerchief. The only thing I recall Grandma ever giving me when she was still alive, was one of these ornate handkerchiefs. It only has about a two-inch square piece of cotton in the centre and the rest is a border of four inches of lace. Grandma’s bedroom had her low dressing table on the left, with a couple of drawers in; one of which had her wide pins in, for her hair. On the dressing [...]

My Earliest Memories. Good morning, everyone, The earliest memories I have are around the age of 12 months. I know I couldn’t walk, and my mother told me we all walked around 14 months of age. I have one vivid memory of myself sitting on a cushion in the lounge with various toys around me. To my left was a group of 6 coloured wooden pegs, which were hammered down. In-front of me, were a selection of graduated, coloured plastic cups and plastic bricks. By my right hand, was an alphabet jig-saw, where the gap in the wood was shaped like the wooden piece. But what excited me the most, was to my NE; it was a humming spinning top. I didn’t have the strength in my arm to operate it, so I had to wait for either my older brother to come into the room to do it for me, or one of my parents. I recall it giving me great joy seeing the colours whirring around, and to listen to the humming. Another early memory, is of my Dad giving me knee rides. His favourite one, was a rhyme that his Grandmother had used when he was a boy. The content of which, reveals its age. “Nellie, Nellie, went to the well, to fetch a pale of water; She opened the lid… And in she… slid. And she was the Miller’s daughter.” Just before “slid” I would be poised on Dad’s lap waiting for him to let me drop through his knees. He would catch me as I slid through and then he’d bring me up on his knees again for the last line. This had me laughing with delight. When I was able to speak, I would shout, “again, again” and Dad would repeat it for me until he was too tired. Dad also liked the rhymes, “one finger one thumb keep moving.” “Pat-a-cake” and “Round and round the garden like a teddy bear.” Another finger game he played with us was:- Here’s the Church, Here’s the steeple, Open the doors And here are the people. Here’s the vicar going up the stairs, And here he is saying his prayers. This involved finger manipulation; the hardest bit was the last part of the verse. You would link your fingers from the back, starting with the smallest, as if you were climbing stairs. Once you got to the index finger, you would twist the linked hands round and poke your right thumb up through the centre of your fist; the vicar saying his prayers. I was fascinated, but it was years later before I could manipulate my hands to do that.