A day of rain ...........

OOh dear! Can't do the Train garden, cos it's absolutely pouring with rain. It might have waited until we had cleared all the garden!!
Spent a lazy day stitching and sorting out my next project - will have to start a stitching blog but what to call it - that is the question .............................

To continue here:-

As mentioned in a previous posting, Dad was very proud of the Park and took good care of it.  A tractor used to come once a fortnight and mow the grass but the rough land at the bottom of the park was left to grow wild.  Dad used a large petrol driven mower with a large blade at ground level in front of it to mow this land and he could often be seen struggling up and down the lumps of the ground and by the sides of the pathways pushing this very loud and dirty mower.  Sometimes the mower would stop and Dad would have to sort it out, clearing the grass and weeds caught in the blades or go fetch some more petrol to fill it up.  One day as he was clearing the weeds, whether it was in gear or not I do not know – I have the story only second hand as there was no one there but Dad at the time - but the blades started moving and mowed his middle finger on his left hand clear off at the first joint.  I will tell you how it happened but first I need to say that I was unaware of all this drama – I can remember Dad having stitches in his finger but anything else I am oblivious to.  As far as I am concerned Dad always had a gammy finger on his left hand.

Back to the story – Dad managed to switch the machine off, pick up his finger and get back to his hut.  He wrapped the end of his finger in a clean handkerchief, he applied a first aid dressing to what was left of his finger, put on his coat, locked his hut and went out of the

Station Road

gate.  He used one of the shop’s phone to tell Mr McDuggan what had happened so that the Park could be closed and then caught the bus to the Accident Hospital.

The hospital stitched his finger back on and sent him home; I can vaguely remember him wearing a sling for a short time, but then life went back to normal. 

Years later, Dad told me all this and said that after a few weeks, when he went back to the hospital, they told him that the finger was not setting right and re broke it so that left the tip sitting at right angles to the rest of his finger.  (He jokingly used to say that he didn’t mind as it was perfect for picking his nose and Mam would say “Oh! Harry!!”)

An Update .................

Yippee! I have found my blog - it has been so long since I posted that I thought I had lost this. I shall update now with current 'memories in the making' as well as past memories.
Although I have now retired from paid employment I find the days going so fast and so busy - amazing! I thought retirement was peace and quiet, slower lifestyle, long days and nothing to do ........................ not so ................

To continue:-

Dad cared about that park, so much so that he regularly mowed and marked out the pitches for the football teams, marking all the lines with a white wash of lime.  This powder was mixed into a bucket of water and then poured into a small machine, it was all very messy and I was never allowed any where near this procedure.  The lime would burn if it touched skin and once on clothing etc. it made a right mess.  Dad would then test the machine to ensure that the lime mix was running through correctly and leaving the right thickness of line.  I did try to do it once and Dad was very kind to me but even I could see that the line was not the best.  He used to mark the inner circles first and then the outer lines, it used to look great – such a shame the footballers had to spoil them!!   Matches were usually held on Saturdays and Sundays and were well supported.  The Teams were always given hot water to wash in afterwards, Dad carrying buckets of the stuff into the changing rooms just before the game finished.  I don’t know what happened inside, where the water went or how it was laid out as I was never allowed in there – strictly boys only!!

My brother Tony played in one of the leagues not only in football but also in Cricket.  I can remember that sometimes they came back to ours afterwards, particularly the cricket team, and Mam would make pots and pots of tea, using jam jars as cups because we had run out of crockery!!!  Great fun was had by all and Mam’s cakes and pies just disappeared.  Did I say that the sun was always shining?!!!!  These young men would spill out of the house and into the back yard, laughing and teasing and we all had fun.  Sometimes Frieda and I would wander up to

Glebe Farm Road

park to watch the football and we would shout support for Tony’s team (he played Goalkeeper) and this is where my love of these games came from.  I remember one time Mam had to wash all the football kit and piles of these smelly, dirty clothes came into the house, I really don’t know how they arrived or went but Mam’s face was a picture.  She had to fill the boiler several times and I did as much mangling as I could.  Not fun really, as it took a lot of Mam’s time and with her back not very good, it was a big effort for her but she had a willing heart.  She never complained about these things, all the baking that went on for Tony’s friends and now the washing for the team, thank goodness she didn’t’ do the Cricket Team!!!!

So this afternoon I have found my blog - yippee!!!

I thought that I had lost this site because it has been so long since I posted.

But now I am back! ..............

I shall recall my past as and when I can ...............

Promise!!!

xx