memories

I'm back!

After a long pause, I thought I might shake off the cobwebs in the dark corners of my mind, and shed some light on my life as it was when I was young and full of , err...now what was it?...oh yes, life.

I must say sorry to Claire. It seems she does read about Flip, and has missed my little bits of a young boy's days in the suburb of London among the coster mongers and stall holders who sell all manner of things.

Not sure what I'm going to put down yet; just have to play it by ear. A bit hard to type that way but I will try!

The war years were frightening and fun for us kids, with spending nights down the underground railway (tube), riding the trains until they stopped running. I got to know most of the different lines that circled London, and thought I was very clever when I could say where the Bakerloo or Elephant & Castle went to. Apart from that there was music on the platforms - someone playing a mouth organ or a banjo - and of course always someone who could sing a good song and those that thought they could!

Housie housie was a big thing (bingo). Kids were not allowed to play as money was used. But then, as today, I still cannot get into the excitement of this game. Maybe takes too much skill to win mmmm.

My Saturdays spent working on the barrow were long but then I was a loner so had nothing else to do. Lots of dear old ladies used to talk and cuddle me - I think I enjoyed it. I never had a kiss or a cuddle at home. Actually, when I look back, I'm sure people around my area never showed any affection to their kids. That was how it was. Never heard my mother say to me once "I love you." Just wasn't done. So sad.

Dad's horse old Tom used to listen to my moans and groans and never seemed to mind, just a soft whinnying now and then. But then I had to clean his stable, change his straw, brush him down and use the calico comb on him and he loved that. Well, I think he did. He never bit me.

Friday night was a big night as we had to prepare the fruit and veg for the stall for Saturday. Make sure all the goods were in good condition. Celery in those days was washed and trimmed - a cold job in the winter months. Brussels sprouts had to be checked over. All the yellow parts had to be taken off. Trimmed sacks of these every Friday night.

The last thing I did on a Friday night was to cook the beetroots. I put them into hessian sacks, which were then placed into a boiler and cooked for about four hours. I didn't have to wait around for them, so I used to wander the streets until it was time to return. Then I'd turn off the gas and lift them out. Of course I had to test them to make sure they were cooked properly! Then I laid them out in shallow boxes, making sure they didn't rub against each other - didn't want any bruising. A bit different today when you see how they are handled.

Of course, I loved to visit the farrier with my father when Tom had to have new shoes. The blacksmith was just up the road from us. I loved the smells of the brazier and sometimes I would pump the bellows for him, but mostly it was nice and warm.

My big fishing day then was a fishing net along the canal catching tiddlers. I thought I was good if I caught one but couldn't keep them anyway.

We all threw stones at the water rats as we saw them scurry along the edge of the canal. Nasty looking things. Still hate them.

As you can see I have wandered in my memories today. I think my brains index is getting a little cockeyed but as long as someone is reading this, I shall push on.