Under The Table,,,,,,,,,,,,

When I was small my parents would visit my Grandparents quite often. My uncle Ray was still at home at that time, I believe he was about 14 years older than me so was only in his 20s. He was always my favourite. I suppose because of his comparative closeness in age. I remember his first car, it was one that he had to crank. Also his first motorbike. I must have been quite a pest because I remember he would have me run up the road along side him until we got off the main road and then he would take me on the back for long rides in the country. No helmets in those days.




Anyway. Mum had 3 brothers, the other two were married. Uncle Norman and Auntie Ivy would visit quite a bit and so we spent a lot of time together. They never had kids.
In the evenings the adults would play cards. I would sit under the table and listen. They would forget I was there.
This was not long after the end of the war. To me it was ancient history if I was aware of it at all. For my parents it was very recent, Dad had got back from Japan in 1945. I was born in 1946. I would listen to the stories told about things that happened during the war. I suppose if I was not a quiet child I would not have been forgotten. Then I probably would not have heard half of what I did.
(not me by the way)
I was an only child and spent most of my time with adults. I enjoyed that. The stories I heard came in very handy when I began the family research. That's another story though.
I learned that my Grandmother had some sort of ability to "see things"............Mum stayed at her parents once Dad went off with the army. She did do her own tasks during that time, I believe one thing was the night watch. They were responsible in part for being sure no one broke the black out.



Well one night they had all gone to bed when Mum awoke to the sound of pebbles hitting her bedroom window. She thought Dad had come home on leave and got up, put on her dressing gown and as she left the bedroom she met her Mum coming out of her room. Nan said to her "Somethings happened to Harry" (my Dad)......well, there was no one down stairs or outside. They went back to bed. The next day Mum got a telegram. Dad was "missing, believed killed" and for two years she never knew what had happened to him............amazing what you hear from under the table.

Tristen loves his tea............

I normally drink coffee. When I lived in England I drank tea. I grew up drinking tea. Mum used to use loose leaf tea for many years and then came the ol tea bags. That was not so bad at first but soon seemed to become inferior. I went right off of tea for a long time. We drank it with milk and sugar and I never thought of drinking it any other way. Again, as a child there were things in the tea packets that kids collected. We would swap the cards when we got more than one and it was something that most kids did so we always looked forwards to new packets of tea. I can smell the new packet being opened even now ummmmmmm and the anticipation of the prize within. The tea cards were not only pretty they were educational as well. I still have a bunch of them around. I don't have complete collections and so they are worthless but if I do start an Etsy shop I might put them out there to use as other things for crafts. Mum never really had "good" china. We used pretty basic stuff. I do remember my Dad bringing home a "bargain". He had stopped for some reason at Dunstable market and brought home a complete set of dishes including cups and saucers. It was white with black ducks on it called "Ducks in flight" my mum, you would have to know her, never appreciated his efforts. still that set was around for a very long time. When I moved to the States the remnants came with me. The two plates that are left I gave to Laura. Dad loved his bargains. My dad prefered a big cup and had no time for the small tea cups, he was happy when coffee mugs made their appearance. Although complained not to have a saucer, he would have to wait for the tea to cool down instead of drinking from the saucer. I never really went back to drinking tea like I did when I was young. It's coffee for me these days but...........I do like tea again. I drink Earl Grey black. I also like herbal and green tea. It's just not a habit. In England it's a way of life. I cant explain that very well but life revolves around a good old cup of tea. It's the answer to most things that ail us. A sweet cup of tea for shock or for when a child is not well. Its nourishing. For tea breaks and elevenses or anytime someone stops in for a quick visit you hear "put the kettle on would ya". Well the point of this post was really to say that I am English indoctrinating Tristen into being a tea person. Its good for you rather than coffee. Right now he LOVES his cup of tea. Earl Grey usually. If for any reason you have a child who is not eating, is sick or weak...........a good cup of tea with milk and sugar gives basic nutrients and any older person in England would tell you it heals everything. I am linking up with Rose Chintz cottage new linky called Home........

Old Friends.............

One of the great things about Facebook is that one can find so many old friends there. Many I have not seen since I was a child in school, some were teen friends and some were work friends. Who ever they are its magical that we can catch up now after so many years. I started a group for the village in England that we all grew up in. Its been amazing seeing them come in and just begin chatting about how things used to be back in our day. Our village was a rural farming community that did not change much from the beginning its in the Doomsday Book. At some point it was a Saxon village and then the Romans built a road through to the north that went on by. The church is Saxon and has not changed since then.


Our families have been there as long as records have been kept, either in that village or close by. People did not move far until the 1950s and 1960s and life remained pretty much the same. It was our generation that changed everything but it began after the war when we were chosen to take on a lot of the London people. New homes had to be built and new jobs found as London was rebuilt, along with Coventry and many other cities. So they brought in car factories to replace the straw hat trade that sustained the area for a hundred years or so and the new Londoners moved into council houses to take on the work. Over the next years the village was pretty much demolished. So it is that in this Facebook group we remember our childhood. How free we were. Most of us would go outside after breakfast go find a mate and off we would go, sometimes alone. I know I would go for miles across the fields with a friend or on my own and just look around. No particular goal in mind but learning the names of the wildflowers (Dad got me a book) and birds and their nests. A friend and I collected eggs and got to know where to find and identify them. I remember being thrilled when I found a Wrens nest, so pretty and well made. We climbed trees, fell out of them or caught our clothes on barbed wire and ripped them. I remember the first electric fence I saw and how we would "test" it. I have been chased by a herd of cows and attacked my a mother hen. Stung by wasps and just about everything you may imagine but was never really hurt. My parents could never have known where I was, they were working and I was free to do as I chose, and I did. We would play in the chalk pits and visit the farms. Climb the cliffs and fish for Tadpoles and Sticklebacks. There was never such a thing as being bored, we made and invented our own fun. No TV because even when we did get one in 1952 there was nothing on during the day. Not that much at night for that matter. Maybe on a rainy day we would listen to the stories on the radio. We collected food boxes and played at stores or we played school or we made mud pies. There was never a lack of things to do. From what I have heard on the group, the boys were way more adventuresome and their territory was more within the village and with each other, mine was a more solitary existence. I preferred that. The village Chemist would pay us to go gather things like Elderberries and other things that they needed and we got paid a pittance for doing something we loved to do anyway.


This is me at Grove Farm aged around 16

I already spoke about the time I spent on the farm. My friend Margaret lived on Grove Farm and that was my main hang out in the summer time and any weekend I could get there. Never a lack of things to do there for kids.
Sometimes I would walk to my Grandmothers several miles away along a more busy road but I may have stopped in at my Aunt Nellie's house or maybe caught a bus, it depended upon the weather. Nan never knew to expect me, we didn't have a phone and neither did she. When I had enough of that I would take off and walk across the hills to Dunstable and visit my Auntie Ivy and Uncle Norman. They worked nights so I knew that by afternoon they would be there. I loved to lay on the side of the hills and just watch the clouds, the sound of bees in the Harebells and Daisies. Larks singing in the sky and the sun warm on my face. I suppose I may have dozed off on occasion, after all it was a lot of walking. There was a small Spinney up on the hills and Bluebells grew there. It was not far as the crow fly's to my aunts house and after a brief visit and cup of tea I could catch the bus home. No one had a car so it was up to me to get myself home by tea time. We could play outside until the street lights came on and then all the kids would go inside unless a few stragglers would hold out under the street light until called inside. We have some wonderful memories and a childhood that is now a thing of the past. One that I am just so grateful for


pictures from the web with no credits. If I have inadvertently taken your picture please do let me know and I will delete it or give you credit.


I am linking up with Brambleberry Cottage Time travel Thursday.