Way back when

I'm sorry but just found out about blogging so hope I don't bore too many people. I live in Queensland, Australia in the beautiful city of Caloundra. I originally came from the UK quite some time ago and settled in NSW with my wife and two children but like older people my mind wanders back to days I spent in my childhood.


Some of my earliest memories go back to around my being eight years of age, born to a family of totters and also fruit and veg sellers on Saturdays. It was around that age that I started to work on the barrow so I became, as was known in those days, as a barrow boy (barrer boy). I had to stand and shout to the people as they passed by, trying to sell whatever my father obtained from the Covent Garden markets. Some times carrots or celery and lettuce.


I hated the cold, the icy wind that blew my coat sleeves, which were smooth and shiny where I wiped my nose (I wasn't the only one). But there were other things to make up for it, like the smells of the fresh bread coming from the bakers where you could stand and watch the bread being baked or the butcher's shop where you could buy a piece of pease pudding and faggots. As I recall the taste was out of this world - not sure if I would feel the same today!


Back then the Lyons Corner Tea Rooms where everywhere. The best and cheapest cup of tea around and oh so warm on a cold and snowy day. Dad used to let me have a short break, so I made the most of it with my cup of tea and cheese cake.


Perhaps I started at the wrong place. I should have said where I lived. We had a big old place in North Kensington. Rows of houses and closed up shops, one flight of stairs up to a landing that housed the toilet and the bedroom come kitchen come lounge. I slept in this room with my older sister. We all ate our meals in there and spent the evenings around a small fire place trying to keep out the draughts. My parents had a bedroom one flight up, then a front room that wasn't to be used except on very special occasions but it had to be thoroughly cleaned every week! I had another sister but I can't recall where she slept.


Outside our window was a flat roof that my dad covered in earth and grew tomatoes - I can't remember if it smelled or not. Two doors down was the stable where the horse and cart was kept.


Our horse was called Tom. I loved that horse. I told him all my problems but he always listened without a murmur, no matter how long i kept talking. I had to clean his stall, put all the droppings in a sort of cage. I supposed someone cleared it away but I can't recall.

Dad went to the markets on Fridays and the goods were stored down the stable. No locks or chains - pretty honest those days! Of course celery had to be washed, lettuce trimmed and I remember cleaning and taking yellow leaves off brussels sprouts well into the night. Also I cooked the beetroots. Each batch took four hours in an old copper boiler. Then, when cooked, I had to lay them out in shallow boxes keeping them apart so that they didn't touch and bruise.

Oh my, I have rambled on but then it might be of interest to some. Before closing today, I should tell you I am seventy seven years of age with a grown up family who of course urge me on to use the net, so sorry, blame them! Lol!!


Bye for now...this is just a start.

Flip