Absolutely Altinkum's very own Columnist.
by Ronsgame 14 May 2009, 11:03
Until I complete my full offering, (with the help of my wayward laptop) this is a short offering to maybe put a smile on your face and bring back some of your own childhood memories.

Thanks to my memory, this is a short offering. It's amazing how one's memory becomes more
alert for the past when the years rush by though, even though I cannot remember what I had for supper the night before.

My childhood days entered my mind the other day, obviously when nothing else was bothered about visiting my head.

When I was about five years old my Aunty Margaret got married. She lived in Blackpool, along with my Great-Aunts Maggie and Hetty and Great-Uncle Wilf. I must tell you that I was adopted by my Grandfather. He had a Housekeeper and her husband who lived in the house. I used to call Mrs. Leece (the housekeeper) my Aunty and her husband, Uncle Harold. Now Uncle Harold became shortened to Uncarol, only being a child - Yup I WAS a child at one time.
The name 'Aunty' for Mrs. Leece was changed later to 'Mother' after I had my own children.

When my Aunty was getting married, she wanted me to be a bridesmaid. She also wanted her future husband's niece from Australia to be my partner in crime. The only trouble was, this other little girl was named 'CAROL'. Can you see where this is going now?

Mrs. Leece whom I eventually called Mother, was a Dressmaker and Tailoress and was asked to make both bridesmaid's dresses, which I have to admit were beautiful. The day dawned and we made our way to Blackpool in our car, driven by my Granddad. Now, you must remember the name I had given to Mr. Leece at that time.... Uncarol. I had been told
that Carol was going to be the other bridesmaid !!!!

When I reached the church I was introduced to the Carol from Australia, whom I guess must also be in her seventies by now. When I was introduced to her, I became dreadfully upset. When questioned by my peers as to my bad mood, I said "Uncarol was supposed to be a bridesmaid". Now, on reflection, how on earth could a man become a small bridesmaid?

Nothing anyone could do could make me smile or change my mood. In the wedding group photo my face told the story. I glowered at everyone and everything. Even though I was only five, when the camera-man told me to watch the birdie and smile at it, I knew he was in the wrong job, he should have been working in a home for the mentally-challenged. I mean,
WHAT birdie? Nothing during the photo shoots could make me smile.

I must have eventually recovered from my disappointment because I do remember running across the slippy floor where the reception was being held. Boy, was that floor great for sliding on !!

Let us all know of your own childhood memories that we call smile at.

Veronica

Live Simply. Love Generously. Care Deeply.
by bez 14 May 2009, 19:02
as always veronica brilliant story and recollection my mums 82 and can remember things from 70 years ago but like yourself cant remember 3 days ago LOL luv bez
by Big Red 17 Oct 2009, 14:04
I was lucky enough to be brought up in a big big family. My dad and mum both worked and bestowed old fashioned values on us from a very young age. My mum had miscarriages and was told that she couldnt have any children then 6 came along. Before the boys I was the boy of the family and wore dungarees and had my chores to do. I loved like my dad DIY and he brought me a hammer 2.5lb of nails and gave me a job to do to make a milk crate that would carry the milk from the drop off point to the house. I got to work finished the job only to find that the crate with the milk was too heavy I had used all the nails!! The neighbours thought I was a boy till I was 12 years of age and used to buy me boys clothes and toys for christmas, I was always grateful for whatever gifts was given.

My mum worked too and my father kept 3 jobs to keep his family a salesman during the day a window cleaner during the weekend and as an insurance man at night. I too had many jobs Diy Mostly it was my job to count the bags of coal into the bunker when delivered on a saturday morning, then move it to nearer the house with a shovel. One day decided as I had finished early that I would paint the back door I found the tin of yellow paint and did a damn fine job or so I thought. But soon I was put over my fathers knee and my backside was a glowing red, only to find out why.... they had left the washing out.

My skills got better as I replaced the wood under the bath only for dad to get in it and it collapsed sending the water into the kitchen and living room I laughed seeing my father get off the floor.. again a hiding was given thinking I had done if for a joke!!, I ended up with a colour chart to see which was the worst hiding I ever had, giving me the best coloured cheeks ever.

One day had been out with my friends and found a window on a bombed building site dad had been talking about putting the outhouse and the scullery together inside the house to create a bathroom I dragged the window home. My dad used it as we worked together building the extension. I remember a council bloke coming round... I found out afterwards that he had been saying a boy had been seen dragging a window down the street and down our terrace. Dad took me round to see him as me being the only boy of that age in the household ..I must say that was the only time I wore a dress tights and had my hair fancy and didnt know why.

There are many traits that I have had in our family but one of them I have is facial features I take after my father but I also have his nose...but he looked like WC fields so I would rather look after my mums side so anyone know a good plastic surgeon....there is hope for me yet. Kx

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