All the chatter around the departure of Mrs T has got me thinking back and smiling fondly about the days of my childhood, in particular of growing up in Lancashire. One area close by may have been named as the most deprived area of the UK for 5 years running, with 3 out of 4 people living on one estate claiming benefits but it wasn't that bad when I lived near.
I remember fondly the rolling pennines, going for walks around the reservoir, whatever the weather (although usually raining!), visits to the cotton mills with my Mum to choose fabric so she could make me the latest design for sale in Tammy Girl at a fraction of the cost (these even she days couldn't compete with Primark and the supermarket giants).
I remember my grandparents ironmongery where customers would come in and buy anything from a single nail to the whole redecoration of their house. Also the way she used to put the dustbins and brushes outside in a specific order, everytime I walk past the quincaillerie in Clermont L'Herault I think of their shop.
And running off to the bakers for Oven Bottom Muffins with Corned Beef and Cream Apple Horns for Saturday lunch in the kitchen behind the shop.
In fact I am now remembering my great aunties who passed away long ago, one who worked as secretary in a cotton mill, I can still hear the noise of the machinery in my head, she used to look after us after school sometimes when Mum and Dad were both working (Dad did shifts, Mum was 8-5) - not surprisingly my aunty was deaf as a post! I still find it amusing though that my Mum says most Lancastrians have hearing problems because of the Mills, my response to her, 'but you never worked in a mill' - she does have hearing problems though - probably too much nagging from me as a kid!
Each time I drive back up North (I don't call it home now as it's been a long time since I lived there) I like the feeling I get when I come off the Motorway and see the hills (now covered with windfarms which I think look quite graceful). It's not the same place I used to live, so much has changed, the markets have gone, the cotton mills - mostly closed - changed into 'factory outlets' or housing.
My grandparents remain in their stone end of terrace house (situated near to a Mill) which they proudly bought many many years ago - that house is now probably my favourite place in Lancashire.
Just found this old thread. From Lanky too, a bit westward from Suzanne I think, but could see Longridge Fell in the winter over the leaveless trees. I well remember the mill lasses crowding out with their hair scarves on, and later on herding into Mrs Flowers' chippy with their china bowls. I used get sent for ours, "four nice pieces of hake and four six penn'orths of chips please" - and you'd get scrapings to munch too on the way back. Only one curry house in town in those days, was always full to bursting after chucking-out time. My mam's parents were from Leyland, my gran's father had been the blacksmith there I was told. My grandad worked at Leyland motors from 14 to 65, he retired and died two months later, just after my gran...
We lived in Heysham and my Dad had a boat which we used at weekends in the summer. We used to go to Piel Island just off Barrow, which some of you may have seen on the Hairy Bikers new programme.
I used to take my dog for walks along the shore and some times cycle to my aunt’s farm at Borwick, eleven miles away and eleven miles back. It was a heavy model a BSA.
Everything changed when my Dad died when I was thirteen.
It is so strange. Childhood was disjointed. Before my memory begins we had gone to Cologne to join my father, my mother using her NAAFI job to get there and becoming branch manager. She kept that job until my sister was well on the way and my father had a demob date.
The suburban SW London we went to had trolley buses. I still hear the swish, swish of the contact arms on the cables. We lived in a really big flat in Cologne but then a tiny terraced cottage in London, the former was a place where there were always adventures, suburban London was very protective and so I had to break rules, something that has stuck with me for life. Seeing an ABC cinema too, before we had a TV that was our once a week special entertainment, King of the Rocketmen and such... Reminiscences but tough days!
Ian - do you live near the Vehicle Museum? I remember the parades of old vehicles going through the streets, my grandad used to say 'I drove one of those' and we would laugh. I tried driving the old fire engines once - I couldn't even move the gear stick!
