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Bedtimes and Early Mornings (2-6yrs) - Memories: Part Two Did I say… all was quiet? Well not always! 😊 When visitors were coming, we were sent to bed earlier. As soon as we heard them arrive, we’d all creep to the top of the stairs to see who it was and try and hear what was being said. With all our whispering and giggling, Mum and Dad would hear us, and as the lounge door was opened, we’d all run back in excitement and dive back in bed and pretend we were asleep! The pattering of our feet and the crash on our beds, didn’t fool anyone. Needless to say, we didn’t get away with it and were reprimanded! We seemed to have lots of power cuts on the farm. It may have been due to an overload on the system, and I think this was the excuse most used by the authorities, but occasionally it would be due to a storm blowing down the telegraph poles or wires, or trees falling on top of them. This meant we were plunged into darkness, which could start anyone of us screaming! Mum and Dad would shout upstairs and try and reassure us, as they hurriedly searched for matches and candles. As they climbed the stairs the candle light would flicker and dance on the walls and ceiling, creating an eerie light. Shadows continued to fluctuate as the candle was carried, and it lit up unfamiliar corners. Shadows on people’s faces looked distorted, as the light came from a lower angle. A white candle would then be left by our bedside in a meat-paste jar, egg cup or jam jar, while we tried to settle back down to sleep. If sleep eluded us, we would create hand shadows of various animals against the wall. I recall a rabbit, butterfly and duck were the easiest. As soon as we woke up in the morning, which would have been about 6am, we would all scuttle along to Mum’s and Dad’s bedroom. If it was the weekend, Mum and Dad would use their yellow teas-made, or just use it for the alarm. The alarm was shocking to the system and frightening because it was so loud and shrill. The buzzing noise would travel right through me. It wasn’t a case of making me jump, but more paralysing in its intensity, setting my nerves on end. We all hated it. Sometimes I’d be asked to turn the light on. There were two switches on the machine and both turned on the light, but one of them also could be for the alarm, but unfortunately until you moved the switch you couldn’t tell if it was for the alarm or not. Once I put the alarm on by mistake and I was too frightened to turn it off again. It was as if it had given me an electric shock!

My Childhood Memories (2-6 years old) - Bedtimes: Part One Our bedtimes had set routines. In winter we would have hot water bottles and we’d queue up in the kitchen, while Mum or Dad filled them for us from the water tank over the sink, which heated the water as you used it. There were two bottles, one for girls and one for the boys. They would go in our beds and be moved as necessary while we would change. As there was only the log fire in the lounge for heating, our house was freezing, so our pyjamas would all lie on the fireguard in the living room, to get warm. Once the chill had been taken off them, we would don our pyjamas in front of the fire and put on our dressing gowns and fleecy slippers. My dressing gown was a lovely blue one with ladybird buttons and a twisted white and blue tassel belt. Mum had made my pyjamas for me and were a brushed, yellow cotton, with Nursery Rhyme characters on them. I wore them until they had holes in the knees and elbows. Mum used some of the material to make a nightdress for my doll, Julie, which I still have! Mum would read stories to us before lights went out. We didn’t have many children’s books, but favourite ones were: an Oxford dictionary of Nursery Rhymes and a penguin story book, “Tell me Another story.” This latter book had a story titled, “The boy who ran away,” which had a lot of repetition in it… “I ran away from Mummy, until I met a scooter…” We all loved the familiar text and the repetition added to its appeal. Mum also taught us to recite off by heart three prayers; one was the Lord’s prayer, one was Coleridge’s prayer: He prayeth best, who loveth best all things both great and small. For the dear God who loveth us, He made and loveth all. And the final one was sung: God be in my Head. God be in my head, And in my understanding; God be in mine eyes, And in my looking; God be in my mouth, And in my speaking; God be in my heart, And in my thinking; God be at mine end, And at my departing. It was only in the last year or two on the farm, that my sister and I shared the box room, otherwise we all slept in the same room. My bed was directly behind the door with the window to the left. On Winter nights, I would be kept awake by the howling wind through the trees. If ever I hear the wind in the trees now, it always takes me back to that time on the farm. The curtains would move without a window being open, which doesn’t say much for the state of the windows! Mum and Dad would always say good night to us and tuck us in. As they travelled [...]

Winter Memories: Part Two When we were playing in the snow, Mum would sometimes lock the front door, so we couldn’t keep running in and out and leaving it open! We would then have to knock on the front door, to come in. The solid oak door, had an iron black door knocker, which when banged, had a hollow sound that you could hear echoing through the hall and beyond. This was then opened with a large iron key and we were allowed to enter; on the understanding, we would not go out again that day! On cold days like this, we would come in with hungry appetites and gather around the open fire in the living room, where Mum and Dad would let us use a toasting fork to toast tea-cakes, pikelets or bread. They always tasted better, even if sometimes they were a little charred! The flames had a fascination of their own; they flickered and danced as they licked around the logs and often used to spit or shift suddenly, sending sparks flying out at all angles. Once a cinder fell onto the hearth rug which Mum had made, and burnt a hole in it before Dad could put it out. Winters meant we had some severe gales. Over the years different tiles came loose or were blown off and this led to the elements having access to the roof. After heavy rains, water would start to leak through and because we were too poor to have it mended and we definitely didn’t have any building insurance, the water seeped through into our living area. These leaks were mainly upstairs, but there was also a large hole in the Kitchen ceiling, which was rather scary to a young child, as you weren’t quite sure what might crawl out! The four of us had tremendous fun running around the house with buckets, jugs, saucepans and any available large container to catch these drips. I can still hear the sound of the hollow first drips and then the splash of water hitting water. These splashes also went outside the containers, so we had to add newspaper around them, to be sure the carpets didn’t become sodden. It became important to keep an eye on the amount of water, so that the various vessels didn’t overflow! If an individual was the first to find a new drip somewhere, we felt very important and would shout at the top of our voices, “Bucket!” …intimating we had found a leak that needed one! To us it was a game, but I feel for my poor mother who had to deal with this on a regular basis! I can imagine Quentin Blake would be able to do wonderful drawings of the 4 of us charging around and Mum at her wits end!

Winter Memories Part One: Aged 5. We may have had snow over Christmas when I was very young because we definitely had our fair share, being high up, but I cannot recall. It was always magical to wake up early in the morning with an unusual brightness in the room. This had us scuttling to the window. The frost patterns looked like delicate ferns painted on with a fine brush and we would have to breathe on the glass and rub with the side of our fist, to clear a gap to peer through. Then we would see a carpet of white adorning everything, making the world look clean and bright. Coming silently, added to its magic. We would rush downstairs and be wrapped up in scarves and woolly hats and then with an extra pair of socks and wellingtons on our feet, we would be the new explorers in an alien world. The air tasted different and there was always a hush everywhere, before our squeals of delight broke the silence. After making new footprints in the snow and having snowball fights, we would start to build a snowman together. My brother showed us how to roll the snow to make a big ball and we would all pile it high. Often before it was finished, we would return to the warm kitchen to ease our frozen hands and feet. The gloves would be soaking wet and our hands bright red. Our feet hurt they were so cold, but we rarely learnt our lesson, as we’d try and warm our feet too quickly by the fire and end up with itchy feet! However, as soon as we were warm again and the pain forgotten, we would venture out once more to finish our snowman. We used sticks and stones to put features on his face and we’d give him our own hats and scarves to add colour to the monochrome environment. If it was actually snowing, we would try and catch the flakes on our tongue and try and see the delicate symmetrical patterns, as they landed on our coat, before they melted. In looking up into the vast expanse, the flakes looked grey, silhouetted against the paler grey sky and I had to blink repeatedly to carry on looking. Sometimes the flakes would join on to others and you could see huge flakes coming down in a flurry. They looked like they were dancing as the breeze caught them. As a teenager, I came across Walter de la Mare’s poem, “The Snowflake.” I loved it and learnt it off by heart. Before I melt, Come, look at me! This lovely icy filigree! Of a great forest In one night I make a wilderness Of white: By sky cold Of crystals made, All softly, on Your finger laid, I pause, that you My beauty see: Breathe, and I vanish Instantly.

My Christmas Memories - Part Four: Christmas Day The first sign that Father Christmas had been was when we awoke in the early hours of the morning and moved our feet; we would hear the rustling of paper at the bottom of the bed and then our voices would travel to each other in loud whispers across the landing… “Father Christmas has been!” We’d scurry to the bottom of our beds to see what delights he had left us in our stockings. One memorable morning we found miniature rattles and blow outs amongst the other trinkets in our red, crepe paper, and net stockings. Oblivious of the hour, we proceeded to play them as loud as we could, heralding Christmas day. At four or five O’clock in the morning, Mum and Dad were not impressed and Father Christmas was told not to put such loud things in our stockings again! Generally, our stockings were filled with miniature toys, such as a yo-yo, bag of marbles, a small farm yard set or any small plastic toys made in Hong Kong; this was in addition to a tangerine. If we were fortunate, we would also find an Annual at the bottom of our beds. We loved our Annuals. They would keep us quiet for hours, so Mum and Dad loved them too! We had ones like Twinkle, Bunty, Treasure, Look and Learn and Beano.) When we were allowed to get up, we would hurry into our parents’ bedroom and loudly exclaim, “Look what Father Christmas has brought us.” Our parents shared our joy and excitement and with eyes sparkling with anticipation and delight, we would hurry to get dressed and downstairs. The Living Room was out of bounds, so we would have a hurried breakfast and then sit in order of age up the stairs, impatiently waiting until we were allowed into the lounge, which had become a treasure trove of delights. With our eyes closed and the room in darkness, Mum and Dad would lead us one by one in order of age, (the eldest being first) into the lounge and position us in various places. The presents would be in various positions around the room. When we were all ready, the lights would be switched on and we could open our eyes and begin to eagerly unwrap our presents. Around the age of 5, I found the excitement and anticipation too much… while Mum and Dad were leading my siblings in, I had a quick peek and saw a navy pram with my doll Jane in it with a new outfit on. I was so excited and grinned from ear to ear. Those mornings were very special. Anna Embroidery Craft AnnaEmbroideryCraft

My Christmas memories - Part Three: Excitement! Being normal children, we could be found getting up to mischief. Our favourite activity, which could be done on any day over the Christmas period except Christmas day, was to slide around the base of the tree.  My sister and I wore the famous cosy toes tights and the boys’ cord trousers, which all worked well for the task! We would crowd around the door, so we could take a good run towards the tree. As we got closer, we’d go down on our knees and shins and slide on the polished floor around the back of the tree. This was great fun and we thoroughly enjoyed it. Mum and Dad however, were not so impressed and we were told in no uncertain terms, not to continue as we could knock down the tree! We of course insisted we wouldn’t, and after all they were spoiling our fun, so with someone on guard duty, our activity continued. The pine needles getting caught in our tights and trousers, was all part of the fun. I don’t recall the tree ever being knocked down, but I’m sure we were the culprits to some of the glass baubles being destroyed! Finally, Christmas eve would arrive and we would be too excited to sleep, so we’d talk to each other in loud whispers across the landing, until Mum or Dad would call to us to stop and get to sleep. “Father Christmas didn’t come to children who were awake!” We would try with all our might to stay awake to see him, but we never managed it and finally fell asleep dreaming of exciting things

My Christmas Memories - Part Two: Preparations! It was the dedication from my parents which made our Christmas unique. The preparation for the big day was exciting in itself and we were all actively involved. Our Christmas tree and decorations went up in our house the weekend before Christmas. As we owned our own woods, Dad would choose one of these trees – It would be at least seven feet high! On dry winter days we would wrap up warm and follow Dad into the woods, where we would watch him fell our Christmas tree. Dad sawing down trees was a regular occurrence because wood was our only source of fuel. We’d have to stand at a safe distance and then we’d all chorus at the appropriate time… “Tim…ber!” and wait with hearts racing, for the crash. Birds would cry out and leaves on the floor would scatter in all directions. At Christmas time, I also remember we would pick some sprigs of holly, rich with red berries and occasionally some Mistletoe, if it could be found. Once the Christmas tree was inside and eventually positioned with logs in a bucket, to prevent it from tilting, we would collect the Christmas box from the attic. The tree was always placed in the same place, opposite the main door into our living room and to the right of the room. We only had carpet over two thirds of the floor. The part where the tree stood was on the polished oak floor. Dad always insisted on getting the lights sorted first before we were allowed to put on the decorations. This could be a very frustrating time, as invariably over the previous twelve months, a bulb would have “gone”, or a connection come loose and it could take him hours to get the series of lights in working order. Our lights were very special. They were bought in the 1940s and consisted of delicate lanterns around an oval shaped bulb. These lanterns depicted scenes from Walt Disney’s “Fantasia” and for years I wanted to see it at the cinema. In 1990 it finally came out on video. My favourite parts are the changing seasons and The Magician’s Apprentice. Once the lights were working to Dad’s satisfaction, we were allowed to position the baubles and all the old favourite ornaments, which had been collected over the years and many before I was born. A few of the bulbs were decorations in their own right in the shape of a snowman or Father Christmas, or elongated ones with patterns on. Even when these bulbs ceased to function, they were too pretty to throw away and we’d attach cotton on to them and hang them on the tree as additional ornaments. We did have a few brightly coloured glass baubles, but they all bit the dust over the years, being so fragile. The majority of decorations we had, were ones we made from old Christmas cards, or paint pine cones in white, to [...]

My Christmas Memories - Part One: Anticipation. As we entered the kitchen from outside, the four of us would remove our wellingtons and line them up on newspaper just inside the door. The room had three doors; the one we had come in by, one into the dining room and a door in the corner leading to the scullery, where the fuel was stored for the log fire. In the right-hand corner of the scullery, a door opened on to a narrow flight of stairs leading to the attic, which we used for storage. As the stairs were narrow and spiralled, they were not very safe, so we were only allowed up if accompanied by our parents. These times were special occasions and caused a lot of excitement. It was very dark and dingy, with a solitary naked bulb to light the way. The delicate threads of the spiders’ webs brushed our faces as we entered, showing the lapse of time between our visits. There were several attractions to this room, not least, I’m sure, was because we were rarely permitted to go up there; but also because all our old toys were kept in boxes and it became like an Aladdin’s cavern to discover them again. There would be old teddies, rattles and wooden bricks and old forgotten books that had seen better days. If we had been given half a chance, we’d have emptied all the boxes there and then, to discover the treasures beneath. We were rarely allowed to remove them, but I’m sure I smuggled some things out under my jumper on occasion! However, by far the most exciting things kept up there, were the Christmas decorations. It would put a twinkle in our eyes at the prospect of seeing all the familiar baubles and trinkets that went on the tree; especially if the main purpose was to collect the boxes. 😊

Good morning, everyone. Today’s Christmas memories are about: Christmas Games! What was special for me, was My mother continued these traditions for us and we had great hilarity playing all these games throughout our childhood and then I played them with all my nieces and nephews when they came around each Christmas too. Perhaps they will teach their own children. 😊 A 1930s Christmas: Part Three, My Aunt Dulcie's Christmas memories: Christmas would be a time for family visitors. One year my parents organised a whist drive in their best room. There were little circle tables with a pack of cards on each table and all my Father’s family would come around to play. They would have little prizes for the winners, like an embroidered hanky, or small book. Beetle Drive was similar and worked well for large groups and all ages. Another favourite was Bingo, as we could all play together when we were young. My brother was good at conjuring tricks and we also had great favourites. We played charades and got into two teams to act out the syllables; Animal, Vegetable and Mineral. We thought of something, and everyone had to ask us questions and guess what it was in 10 goes. Stations caused much hilarity. We sat on chairs in a circle with one person standing in the middle. Everyone would be the name of a railway station. One person would call out two stations and they would have to swap places as quickly as possible before the person in the middle sat in their chair. Another one my father taught us, which we were never allowed to tell the answers to anyone, was called: “My Aunty Likes.” The person in the ‘know’ tells of two things that their Aunt liked and didn’t like: e.g. my Aunt likes stools but not chairs; or she likes apples but not pears. Everyone could have a go in turns of what “My Aunt” liked and didn’t like. The person in charge would then say whether they were correct or not. My sister used to hate this game, because she could never work it out! A game I liked was picture-charades, decades before the game Pictionary came out. A list of carols was chosen by my Mother and we would be in two teams and be in competition with each other. Two people from each team would go up to Mother and she would show us the name of the Carol and we would have to rush back and draw it in pictures for the rest of the team. As soon as one of us got it, they would run up to Mother and she would give a new Carol to us. Other games I recall were: Hunt the Thimble Moving something in the room when everyone was out and searching around the room for what it was. I went to the moon and took… where each person had to name something they took and recall what the last person had [...]

Good morning everyone, here is part two of my Aunt Dulcie’s Christmas memories from the 1930’s: One of our favourite toys was to have a dolls shop with sweets in, such as Dolly mixtures in little packets and little scales to play with. Each one of us would hope that we would get one of these presents at Christmas. We would eat one of the sweets immediately and then save the rest. There were always extra treats at Christmas. We would have dates and figs and crystallised oranges and lemons. Nuts also were a great treat because nut-crackers were used to open them, which was part of the entertainment. The best room in the house was only used for special occasions, which made it extra special. The fire would be lit, which would add to the atmosphere and made it magical. We would always have our Christmas meal next door with our Grandparents. There was a connecting door and our family would just walk through and go into their main front room. The only two days I can recall when the fire was lit in that room was on Christmas Day and Boxing Day. For us to still have the fire lit on Boxing Day, meant it lengthened the party time. Granddad would always carve the turkey and Grandma would always make the stuffing, and the bread and cranberry sauce. Pulling the wishbone was also part of the entertainment and everyone looked forward to the possibility of pulling it. Recipes for the Christmas cake and pudding were handed down the female line. Grandma would also put silver thrupenny bits in the Christmas pudding she made. Then after lunch we would all return to the best room again, with the fire lit and find all our toys still waiting for us.

A 1930’s Christmas by my Aunt, Dulcie. Like me, my Aunt Dulcie was passionate about our family history. She used to relate wonderful stories to me which I have been diligent in recording in family histories. This is an extract of one of her Christmas memories: “Look,” said my mother, “Jack frost came in the night.” My sister and I were struggling with buttons on several layers of underclothes before we went to the window. We rubbed and blew warm breath at the solid-white crust, until through a peep hole we glimpsed the cold morning garden. Downstairs, Dad was on his knees lighting the fire, and wispy, grey smoke struggled from the black coal. We sat with our feet on the brass fender, but no warmth reached our toes for a long while. Christmas was the only time of year we had presents. A few days before Christmas, there would be the excitement of dressing the house. My brother and sisters and I would all be given a little pile of paper chains each and we would start making the loops into one long chain to dress around the ceiling. We had a small artificial Christmas tree that was put on top of the table and then it would be dressed in little ornaments and things that were handed down from my Grandmother. They were all special and unwrapped carefully each year. One of the main things on Christmas Eve was waiting for the carol singers to come. There was a street gaslight outside our house and carol singers would come and sing underneath the lamp once it had been lit. Everybody would gather around the front window listening to them and watching them sing.

Advent As many children across the world will open their first window of their Advent calendar today, I thought I would give a little insight into its origins. The idea of physically marking Advent has its roots in the late 19th century. The Lutherans in Germany, used to make chalk marks on doors from December 1st until the 24th, making it into an actual calendar a few years later. When I was a child, each door of the Advent Calendar portrayed scenes from the Nativity, with the last one opened on the 24th, showing Mary, Joseph and Jesus in the stable. The word “Advent” comes from the Latin phrase “coming toward.” For Christians, the period of Advent marks “coming toward” the birth of Christ. However, it is not just about remembering the joy of Jesus coming into the world 2000 years ago, it is also a time of looking forward in eager anticipation to Jesus returning again. In Autumn 2020, I started embroidering scenes from the Nativity. The idea was to eventually put these into a frieze. However, when I do finish all the scenes, I will definitely have to find somebody else to put them together, as that is not my forte! This embroidery depicts the Angels proclaiming to the shepherds in great joy, that Jesus had come into the world. 😃