Time to Time and Passing By .........

I have read so many blogs over the past few months that I am daring to become brave and post publicly. I have so many memories and there are daily happenings that I need to record somewhere ...............
We have new phones - Galaxy Note. I spend a lot (enormous!) amount of time on this phone, it is a mixture of my handheld Palm and Motorola phone. Slightly longer than my Palm it is as thin as my phone, has a large touch screen but also has a stylus so I get the best of both worlds. I am not completely au fait with it yet but I can use it. However I do worry that my diary will not last on this phone and when I eventually wear it out my notes will be lost forever and then I remembered 'My Blog'!!!!
So boring begins.....................
I spend most of my time at home now. We have been out -
bought a XBox before Christmas which I love but cannot use as DH set it up and has not shown me how to access it yet.
bought new phones and a new wireless printer
bought a car and went out into the sticks over Worcester way
bought a fire and went out Gloucester way but when we arrived we had to wait half an hour for the seller so he didn't charge us. We fitted it and cleaned it and it works and it looks so very pretty!! how can a fire be pretty? Well ............



So apart from sorting Older One's stash and clearing emails, and the H word (which of course is taken as read!) I am keeping myself busy.

My new printer is still not up and running, I have given up now and just copy everything and try to remember I can't print .......... will gather my patience and try again. Oh! the perversity of inanimate objects!! lol


I have found this lovely site who will have lots of my unwanted stash:- http://www.charitycrafter.blogspot.com/

Leigh is a very busy girl so I want to support her as much as I can.

I have donated my tax refund to Ginny out in China:-
www.asianservicesandprojects.org

So that's about it except I want to connect this to my phone - all good fun!

Time is rushing past ...

I cannot believe that time is rushing so fast, we have completed the makeover of 205, I have ordered the last plants from Thompson & Morgan - Huchera and Wallflower. These will go round the lawn in the front so at least I will have something colourful to look at!

We wander over to our new garden today - slash and burn!

All this means that I can go on a train trip on my birthday, dining first class - maybe I'll be a lady at last (at least for the day!)

I have been trying new recipes over the weekend, Date, Apple & Walnut cake on Saturday and Moroccan Meat Balls yesterday. The cake is a keeper so that is good, all apples from my tree will go into cakes now. The Moroccan recipe uses up my spice and also mince so I shall add the recipe to my list. It is good to be back in the kitchen again, we are talking of getting the unit so hopefully soon I can redecorate Yeah!!

Continuing:-

Dad always left the house at about 0815 every morning, my father believed in being punctual – his criterion was ‘better to be five minutes early than one minute late’.  I think this was drummed into him during his army days but we ‘all fell’ with this routine as well, often sitting at bus station for a good hour before we had to leave!!! 

Anyway off he would go, in full uniform and open up the bottom gate, as it was know, undoing padlocks and chains and opening wide the gates.  He would then walk up the hill to his hut, unlock and light the fire.  This fire was a small wood burning stove on the centre of the one wall, in his ‘office’.  It took an age to light so while waiting for this to get going he would set off down to the

Station Road

gates, go through to the paper shop, get his paper and milk, cigarettes and anything else he needed and then open up the gates.  Then he went across the park to the lower gate (same procedure of undoing padlocks and chains), up the hill to Redhouse Lane – open the gate – and round the football pitch (Cricket in the summer) – never across the pitch – to the top gate, which was only a single entry and then to the Manor Road gate which was the official entrance and back to his hut. 

By the time this routine had been completed, the fire was going strong – not that you would know as it was all contained within the stove - and the hut was all warmed up, time to put the kettle on.  On top of the stove was a round plate which covered the fire and, when removed, the wood went into the hole.  A small window was at the bottom of the oven through which shone a small light.   Dad never left his hut at night without putting all the ashes outside, making a path around the hut and to the ‘changing rooms’.  He then laid his paper rolls and wood (or sometimes coke if he would afford it!) inside ready for the morning.  So in the morning, he opened the window and lit the paper and then left to open up.  On his return to the hut he would put a kettle of water on the plate at the top to the oven and get the pot ready with the tea.  If I was with him, two cups would go on the table, the milk bottle and a plate.  Then he would sit down to read his paper while he waited for the kettle to boil.  Then we would have a cup of tea and a sandwich for breakfast, sometimes we had a bowl of cornflakes but that wasn’t very often, there wasn’t much money to go round so that was a special treat.  It was always exciting being in his hut and I wish that I could convey the feelings of it to you – it smelt of Dad, it was special to him and me because it was very rare that Mam ever came and there were no other women, at least not when I was there. 

I used to spend all day there in the park and in the winter it was really special – there was no electric so he had a lamp.  This lamp ran on paraffin, a strange smelling purple liquid which always amazed me but Dad always seemed to know what he and it was about!  He filled the container on the bottom of the lamp and then, after replacing the next bit, lit the wick which was a round piece of mesh but very brittle and under no circumstances was I allowed to touch it.  This had to be replaced quite often but why I never knew and there was a lot of swearing attached to this process - probably because it was getting dark and the office was not the most well lit place!!!  Anyhow the light emitted from this lamp was soooo bright, I was unable to look at it and it lit up all the corners of the hut.  Dad did sometimes hung it up on a hook in the centre of the ceiling but most times just had it on the table.  In the winter it was always dark before we left at night although the park was supposed to close at sunset (or 21.30 in the summer – dependant on Dad!!?!)  Dad would light the lamp and we would read for a bit longer, we both had library books (that’s another story!) and then came the locking up.

Dad would lock up the hut, leaving the lamp on, and then we would go down to the lower gates and the morning’s work went in reverse.  The chains were placed round the gates and the padlock locked into them, sometimes I put the key in the padlock while Dad held the chains or we reversed, Dad put the key in the padlock and I held the chains.  Then over to the bottom gate, round to

Station Road

, over to the lower gates, up to

Redhouse Lane

, round the pitch and back to the hut.  Dad always did it this way because the way down the hill to the bottom gates and round to

Redhouse Lane

gate was very uneven territory, very hilly, dunes and holes and manhole covers.  Dad didn’t mow there very often, so it was really wild.  We needed every bit of daylight to negotiate this land but how Dad could gage how much daylight was left was beyond me but just as we got back to the hut it would be almost dark; now of course, with age and experience I realise how.  When I left Stechford, swimming baths had started to be built there and I was very sad at losing all that wilderness….. but why   ….. another story.  When we got back to the hut, we had to rake out the ashes, roll up the newspapers, fill the bucket with wood or coke, wash of the muck, pack our bags (and any left over milk!!) and put on our coats.  Dad then locked up and we went down the hill and out through the bottom gate, chained and padlocked, and then we went home, always together and me trying to keep up with him.

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

Savings stamps and bank money boxes

In Birmingham there was a Municipal Bank, our local branch being on the corner of Station Road and Lyttleton Road in Stechford. It smelt like a bank, with a high counter and grills behind which stood formidable people.
When I started school we were asked for money for all sorts of things, pennies for the lepers, money for the poor, pennies for Africa, all sorts of things. We were also allowed to save money to put in the BMB as it was called and savings stamps were available one day a week. We used to bring in our 3d and 6d and in return we would get a stamp to put on our card, which the teacher kept safe for us. When the card was full it was worth one whole pound (or we could have a mixture of stamps to the value of £1) and we would be given this card to take home so that our parents could take us to the Bank to pay the money in. The stamps had small pictures of Princess Anne and Prince Charles, Princess Anne being worth 6d and Prince Charles worth 1s. I very rarely managed a shilling; once I had saved up 6d then the stamp was put on my card.
My teacher just would not let me save up too long (12d (pennies) in a 1s (shilling)), nowadays I understand that just for 30 children to have 6d each was a lot of money to have lying around so that is probably why she changed our money into stamps so often!
Anyway with my first full card, off I went with Mam to the bank, it was terrifying – think Mary Poppins!! This well built lady looked over the counter at me as Mam explained why we were there. She passed a form under the grill and we took it over to the small desk on the wall, I could just about reach so Mam had to help. We filled it in and took it back to the lady who said I would have to fill in another one as she had not seen me sign it!! Back we went again and then brought the form back to her so I could sign it in front of her. Mam had to lift me up to sign this and in my childish writing I signed my name – Christine Holland. Sometime later when I was about 10 and went to withdraw some of this money, I was not allowed to get any because my signature had changed!!! Back Mam had to come again to countersign and all for a couple of pounds!!!
Sometimes - usually in Lent – we were given a sheet that had panels on it into which we could slot pennies. This form was filled in during the course of Lent and the money was sent to ‘the lepers’. We used to have stories about how it was for these people in those days and all the grisly details about the disease – every year, I mean once was enough!! – but I suppose each teacher had her own take on it. So another sheet but more interesting to fill in. It was very satisfying to see the rows of pennies filling up the sheet although I only ever managed to fill one in my whole time at Corpus Christi. As I grew older the bank gave me a green money box which could only be emptied by one of the clerks, it was a very boring money box and I really wanted something pretty but there you go …….. this dull, olive green oval metal box with a slot on the top and a small hole to one side appeared on the shelf. It was ugly but it held my savings and the worst of it was that I would have to go back to that ‘lady’ who obviously thought children didn’t belong in a bank. I rolled my £10 note and put it in that box – ha-ha that’d fox her!!! The funny thing is that the bank is now a children’s’ nursery ………..
When we moved to Hall Green the money box came with us and I started to use the Municipal Bank at the top of Highfield Road – I think it is an Estate Agents now – the staff were a wee bit more tolerant but otherwise it was just the same as the Stechford branch, austere, awesome and smelly!! As soon as I left Our Lady of Lourdes – who had the same savings system!!! – I changed to the Post Office next door to the bank. Their money box looked like a small book and we could choose the colour so I had a blue one. Once again the money box was taken to the Post Office to be opened and then entered into the Savings Bank book but the staff were really friendly and always made me feel that I had achieved something, which in those days I really had!! I still have a couple of the boxes but our local PO cannot find the key – I will have to try a few of the older POs, maybe someone will recognise them!!

Having sandwiches in Dad’s hut …….. 2

One dank and miserable day, we had been indoors most of the day, Dad going in and out seeing ‘to things’ and I had been doing my usual ‘things’ and it had been very quiet and almost boring (I had my books). The day became foggy as the evening drew on so, when I went round with Dad to lock up, I really had to watch where I was going. So holding on to Dad’s hand and watching the ground I trundled round with him. The mist got gradually thicker and it was quite frightening. We locked the top gate and started to walk alongside the hedge down towards Manor Road Gate. Suddenly I saw something on the ground and picked it up – it was folded up and was a £10 pound note!!! My Dad scowled at me (as he often did!!) and told me not to be foolish but I put it in my pocket so that when we got back to his hut I could prove it was not just a sweet wrapper. So we continued the routine of locking up, but when we returned to the hut I left the paper in my pocket and then we set off home. Once we reached the house there was no holding me as I ran up the entry, into the kitchen and told Mam all about what had happened, she was astonished as Dad, didn’t believe it either. I pulled the paper out of my pocket and there it was – a £10 pound note!!! It was like finding a £50 note in today’s money. I had to put it straight into my money box, a special one that had to be opened at the bank and the money paid into my bank account. I was thrilled to think I had all that money in my bank but I can’t for the life of me remember what I spent it on!!

Having sandwiches in Dad’s hut

This was sharing to the utmost!!! It was always such a private moment between Dad and me; but then he always shared his food with me, especially the bones off his chops, and the tripe out of his Tripe and Onions. It was through this sharing of bones that I learnt how to strip them ….. if I moved away from him then there would be no more from that meal!!!!
Mam always used to moan but Dad ignored her and I know now that she didn’t mind really, she was just being a mom. I was the last child born after the war finished so when I reached the interesting stage – 2years old – Dad had left the army and was trying to find work, along with hundreds of other ex-service people. Dad must have spent a lot of time at home but it was before I was old enough to really appreciate this.
My earliest memory as I have said previously was when I was three and I broke my leg. My next memories are of school so I wasn’t aware that Mam and Dad’s relationship was any different to when my brother and sister were small – they were just there!!! Dad did not have a lot to do with my siblings as children because, although before the war Mam was in married quarters usually on the base, unfortunately the war was on and he was away during the best times to get to know them.
Dad was the centre of my universe, I always felt that I had a special relationship with him but was not aware that I was ‘spoilt’. During the school holidays I spent a lot of time with him, me and Frieda – although she was not privy to a lot of what went on as she would stay in the street playing with the other children, using her own home as a base. I opened up the park with him on the days that Mam worked and closed it again at night, if it was before my bedtime or around that time. Mam would make sandwiches for us both for breakfast, mostly jam. Dad would pick up a loaf of bread and something for us to have for lunch from the shop for lunch and maybe tea. Sometimes Dad opened the top of the oven and toasted the bread, my job being to spread the marg and jam. We couldn’t always do this as the fire was not hot enough, some days it always seemed to just smoke which filled the hut very quickly. Dad always sent me into the other room and told me to shut the door and stay there till he told me to come out. I didn’t mind as I had my book and I could look out of the window. The window looked onto the Manor Road gate so I could watch the people going to and fro and also those in their gardens. On Toasty days we saved the sandwiches for tea! They were always slightly mashed and bent, with the jam running into the bread – unless you have taken jam sandwiches on a picnic - you have no idea of the taste. For lunch we would have sausage or bacon sandwiches or such like, always followed by a piece of Mam’s apple pie. Mam would make a bacon and egg pie which we would have for lunch, this was delicious although I was not always keen on the soggy bits!!! Alternatively she could make us some soup or stew and Dad would warm this up on the stove and we would have it with bread. Dad’s table was a small fold up one, may have been a card table I am not sure as there was nearly always a plastic cloth over it. I don’t recall where he kept the cutlery and plates etc or the bowl for washing, I think that the only cupboard as I remember was a single wardrobe like one in the other room. He kept his paperwork, small tools and things in there. I had a hook on the back of the door at my height for me to hang my coat and bag (always brought the bag with my books, colouring and writing stuff, sewing, sometimes a jigsaw). The days were long, quite boring at times, although in the summer I could escape out into the park, but always where Dad could see me. Having to stay close to the hut, I found that I could collect leaves and flowers and ‘explore’ round the changing rooms hut. I even had a vase for my picked flowers although the garden that I made just outside the hut never came to anything!! Dad superior, Mr Douggan, came on a Friday at some time to give him his wage packet and I always, always had to be out of the way when he came. I met him once or twice when I was ill, probably tonsillitis from which I suffered a lot. The Superintendent was another ex army officer and Dad would make him a cup of tea and they would sit and chat. I had to be invisible on these visits, I didn’t know then why but now I realise that Dad could have lost his job if it was known that he was looking after me while he was at work.

Manor Road Recreation Ground........Playing games

Sometimes for reasons best known to himself, Dad would not allow me to play down the bottom end so then decisions had to be made, whether the others wanted to play down there without me or up top with me. Invariably, if Sarah M was with them, then they would play down the bottom and I would play by myself up top. This didn’t always bother me because I was on my own a lot, many of the children hung about the bakery and the railway and in the street so, me being in the park, I was on my own!!
Dad’s hut and the changing rooms were built into a dip in the land at the top of the hill. A flat area had been dug out to contain these two buildings with three little narrow steps cut into the side so that the rest of the top park (which was basically football and/or cricket pitches) could be accessed. This ‘drop’ was only about 3ft and could be jumped quite easily so us children could access anywhere on this area as there was an (we called it a gulley) access area all round these buildings. Quite a neat area to play in, with plenty of hiding places although it was sooo exposed.

Dad’s hut
Two changing rooms / toilets


SHOULD BE A MAP - DARN IT!!!!! I'LL DO IT ONE DAY!!!! :-)



So long as we kept the noise down Dad didn’t mind us playing here and I think he quite enjoyed watching us although, if he came out to go ‘on patrol’, he would never let on that he knew where any of us were hiding!! We usually played out non-cowboy films here as the grass was quite short, so we had to use the buildings as ‘protection’. It was great fun but very limited, there is only so much you can do in such a small area and only so many times you can run round buildings!!
When I was on my own I tended to play in the area behind the changing rooms; the grass was short, as this small piece of land was lumpy, so there were various games that could be played by oneself. Sometimes when on the opening walk with Dad I would collect leaves and flowers, then sew small garments for the fairies which I would leave out in appropriate places i.e. under the shelter of the hut or in a dip in the ground. Other times I would run up or down the dips, lie on my back just watching the clouds overhead and listening to the skylarks. I would imagine I went to sleep during these times as it was very relaxing to just lie there, watching and listening. There were several patches of weeds growing there and around the bases of the huts so sometimes I would pick bunches of flowers for Dad’s hut. Quite often when Dad went out ‘on patrol’ and I was left alone in there, I would pretend it was my house and clean it up and sweep it out – loving every minute of it.
Dad used to go out ‘on patrol’ every couple of hours or so, walking round the full perimeter of the park, checking gates, chatting to people walking the dog, watching out for ‘trouble’ i.e. flashers, suspicious looking characters and courting couples.
Now there is another subject – Courting couples!
Dad was well known locally for being quite strict with goings on in his park. If he saw any couples strolling across the bottom half of the park, he would keep and eye on them as they moved, or stopped – as the case may be. As soon as they were seen to be lying down in the long grass, my Dad was out of that hut and down to them whereupon he would be heard to say “Oi! If you’re stopping here then one lies down and one sits up!” it was quite a joke in the area but there was also respect as they always complied. I think that Dad needed to know that they were ok and while one head was visible he could rest easy.
Dad kept watch over the park and if he thought someone was up to ‘no good’ like a single man hovering near the children, older teenagers throwing stones or looking as though they were bullying younger ones, he was out of that hut and moving very fast!! Gradually it became well known in the area that the park was a very safe place for people and children to be. Dad cared about that park, so much so that he regularly mowed and marked out the pitches for the football and cricket teams, marking all the lines with a white wash of lime.