KD Rambles, including Grandwitch thing
- Thread starter KD
- Start date
Isobel1965
Gold Member
Awww sweetie - I will buy you an ice-cream!!!
I spoil my kids rotten! I hate to think of little ones going without!
And I remember paraffin and Esso Blue - erm at least I've read about it cos am a History teacher (*cough*) hahahahahhaa.
More please.........
I spoil my kids rotten! I hate to think of little ones going without!
And I remember paraffin and Esso Blue - erm at least I've read about it cos am a History teacher (*cough*) hahahahahhaa.
More please.........
Isobel1965
Gold Member
heheheheheehehe
nite, hun - am looking forward to the next installment!
nite, hun - am looking forward to the next installment!
A short walk would take us to the Eye Man. Believe it or not, this was the reason for me writing. I was going to tell you about my rather embarrassing appointment with him and I may just get there, but since I’ve told you about most of our visitors, I feel I should finish the job
So we will leave the Eye Man for the moment.
So, you will notice that nobody outside our community had real names. They were always ‘blah Man’. Never even ‘blah woman’. The woman on our estate didn’t work outside the home and if they did (like my mother) they had jobs like canteen lady, car cleaner, shop lady. This wasn’t because they could do any better and had just grabbed these jobs for convenience. No, the people had been brought up fulfilling expectations that they would do menial tasks if they were in a position to have to work.
The only man in our community who didn’t have the Man suffix to his name was Parky. Parky looked after the swing park. Parky was a saint. He wore a black uniform and cap. His ‘short back and sides’ greased down with Brillcream.
The swing park was always packed. Children pushing each other down the slides. Roundabouts going so fast they tried to orbit into space. Older children going high on the swings trying desperately to ‘go over the top’. Always calling out to toddler siblings to “get out of the way idiot”. Never a parent to be seen. Nobody in their right mind brought a parent to the park.
Then there were the constant streams of kids calling for Parky to sort out their grievances. Parky dealt with it all. Parky was always there. Kind, caring and always fair. When we announced that we were off to the park, parents always asked if Parky was going to be there. How they thought that Parky could keep an eye on so many children on so many vehicles of death, goodness only knows.
So we will leave the Eye Man for the moment.So, you will notice that nobody outside our community had real names. They were always ‘blah Man’. Never even ‘blah woman’. The woman on our estate didn’t work outside the home and if they did (like my mother) they had jobs like canteen lady, car cleaner, shop lady. This wasn’t because they could do any better and had just grabbed these jobs for convenience. No, the people had been brought up fulfilling expectations that they would do menial tasks if they were in a position to have to work.
The only man in our community who didn’t have the Man suffix to his name was Parky. Parky looked after the swing park. Parky was a saint. He wore a black uniform and cap. His ‘short back and sides’ greased down with Brillcream.
The swing park was always packed. Children pushing each other down the slides. Roundabouts going so fast they tried to orbit into space. Older children going high on the swings trying desperately to ‘go over the top’. Always calling out to toddler siblings to “get out of the way idiot”. Never a parent to be seen. Nobody in their right mind brought a parent to the park.
Then there were the constant streams of kids calling for Parky to sort out their grievances. Parky dealt with it all. Parky was always there. Kind, caring and always fair. When we announced that we were off to the park, parents always asked if Parky was going to be there. How they thought that Parky could keep an eye on so many children on so many vehicles of death, goodness only knows.
Well....there were happy times somewhere there
Going wildly off tangent here.....Once I realised that nobody was going to buy me that real magic wand that I asked for every Christmas and birthday, my main aim in life was to reach adulthood.
I longed for it. Craved it. It felt like it was taking so long. People would ask what I wanted out of life. What I wanted to be.
My answer was always the same. "To be a grownup". There was no doubt that being in my eyes, being a child was the worse part to go through. It was something that you had to endure to get to that grand age of 26. That was where my goal in life was.
I was constantly being told not to wish my life away. Why? Why shouldn't I. If you are hating something, why wouldn't you want to wish the time went faster?
Childhood couldn't go fast enough for me. Others would say "you'll regret it when you're older". Wrong!
Don't regret one second. When I reached 26, I was the happiest girl alive. I had reached my goal in life. I was safe. Nobody would ever beat me again.
Even now at 50, I wish I hadn't had to go through the childhood stage. Childhood meant no choices. If something awful was going to happen, there was no escape route.
I wanted the choice. I wanted to be able to say "no". As an adult we can do that. If we hate our jobs, we can leave them. If we hate our spouses, we can leave. Okay, we have to bear the consequences of perhaps losing our homes, but we still have the choice.
Sorry...a more sombre note crept in there
Really did ought to get to school
More later..........
Isobel1965
Gold Member
I absolutely agree with you, KD. My eldest girl was asking about my childhood the other day and I couldn't think of more than a handful of times that were happy. I was desperate to grow up so that I could take control of my life and not be at the mercy of adults who didn't ever seem to put my needs first. Maybe that sounds selfish? Maybe it was but I felt very sidelined as a child, remote from love and warmth.
When I met my friend, S, I was astonished that her family actually laughed together! A heady moment!
I did smile at the thought that noone used to take their parents to the park. When I take my kids, I get so annoyed at the molly-coddling parents who hover over their kids so that they don't stumble. Blimey - a bit of risk makes you independent and capable. How will this generation of softies ever manage without mummy holding their hand?
Grrrr!
Bitter, moi? Yeah a bit! lol
More please........xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
When I met my friend, S, I was astonished that her family actually laughed together! A heady moment!
I did smile at the thought that noone used to take their parents to the park. When I take my kids, I get so annoyed at the molly-coddling parents who hover over their kids so that they don't stumble. Blimey - a bit of risk makes you independent and capable. How will this generation of softies ever manage without mummy holding their hand?
Grrrr!
Bitter, moi? Yeah a bit! lol
More please........xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
chicken on a mission
Restarting to lose 4stone
Ooo I love your stories Karion. You should write for your local rag...but not before finishing this purleeze
Isobel1965
Gold Member
Yes - you should DEFINITELY write a book - you have the gift, darling!!!
It's lovely to get some feedback Thank you.
Exactly. It's the control, isn't it. It's not that we want to be controlling, just have some input over our own lives. My Mum always said that her husband came first. Fair enough, but when she went through the rest of the order of priorities, I was at the bottom
That's what she believed. She purposely put me there as she felt that was how it should be.
I was scared I wasn't going to be a good Mum. They say that we learn from our parents how to parent. I learnt, not by example, but through understanding how it shouldn't be done.
Okay....I make mistakes, don't we all, but my children have never been scared to come home.
Thank you.
Exactly. It's the control, isn't it. It's not that we want to be controlling, just have some input over our own lives. My Mum always said that her husband came first. Fair enough, but when she went through the rest of the order of priorities, I was at the bottom
That's what she believed. She purposely put me there as she felt that was how it should be.
I was scared I wasn't going to be a good Mum. They say that we learn from our parents how to parent. I learnt, not by example, but through understanding how it shouldn't be done.
Okay....I make mistakes, don't we all, but my children have never been scared to come home.
The people who lived in the ‘Posh Houses’, didn’t have ‘Man’ in their names.
There was the school dentist. He was just called “The School Dentist”, poor man. He was kind too and always took pity on us estate kids, giving us 6d (sixpence) if we were good.
The doctor was another matter. ‘The Doctor’ didn’t suffer fools gladly. We didn’t have an appointment system, so everyone would just wait in the waiting room until the doctor wanted to see them. He would come in late, put his head around the door and grumble. “don’t know why you’re all here”, “most of you are probably just here to waste my time”
This, of course was untrue. We were brought up to believe that doctors were really quite unnecessary. If you were ill enough to visit the doctor, then you would either be in the hospital or the mortuary
I have evidence of this amongst the letters my Mother sent to my Grandmother. She states that I had fallen off a chair. I was 3 at the time. I must have hit my head in the fall, as she goes on to say that I went white and just lay there for 'long time' (as she put it).
She put me to bed, even though I didn’t seem to be conscious, hoping I would sleep it off. She goes on say that after I had ‘slept’ for 24 hours, she was a little concerned so called in a neighbour who managed to ‘wake’ me. All was well after all.
Ummmm.
There was the school dentist. He was just called “The School Dentist”, poor man. He was kind too and always took pity on us estate kids, giving us 6d (sixpence) if we were good.
The doctor was another matter. ‘The Doctor’ didn’t suffer fools gladly. We didn’t have an appointment system, so everyone would just wait in the waiting room until the doctor wanted to see them. He would come in late, put his head around the door and grumble. “don’t know why you’re all here”, “most of you are probably just here to waste my time”
This, of course was untrue. We were brought up to believe that doctors were really quite unnecessary. If you were ill enough to visit the doctor, then you would either be in the hospital or the mortuary
I have evidence of this amongst the letters my Mother sent to my Grandmother. She states that I had fallen off a chair. I was 3 at the time. I must have hit my head in the fall, as she goes on to say that I went white and just lay there for 'long time' (as she put it).
She put me to bed, even though I didn’t seem to be conscious, hoping I would sleep it off. She goes on say that after I had ‘slept’ for 24 hours, she was a little concerned so called in a neighbour who managed to ‘wake’ me. All was well after all.
Ummmm.
Having a tendency to develop chest infections, pneumonia etc meant that there were some visits to the doctor.
My mother even called the doctor out once when I was young, for my asthmatic father. The doctor was furious as we were using a paraffin heater with fumes simmering in my Dad’s chest. It wasn’t our fault. There was just no money for coal.
After swearing and shouting at my Mother, he put his hand on her shoulder and left saying he would return shortly. He came back with a small bottle of whisky for my father, and said that he had paid for 2 weeks worth of coal for us.
So…his bark was worse than his bite. He was also incredibly kind to me when I was in my teens, but that’s another story
I think that’s about it for the neighbourhood extras So I can get back to my original plan and talk about the Eye Man.
Obviously this was the Optician. He lived in the Clinic right by the Infant school. Of course, these people always lived where they worked Teachers didn’t have families…they lived at school. Parky lived at the park. The Milk Man lived on his float
My mother even called the doctor out once when I was young, for my asthmatic father. The doctor was furious as we were using a paraffin heater with fumes simmering in my Dad’s chest. It wasn’t our fault. There was just no money for coal.
After swearing and shouting at my Mother, he put his hand on her shoulder and left saying he would return shortly. He came back with a small bottle of whisky for my father, and said that he had paid for 2 weeks worth of coal for us.
So…his bark was worse than his bite. He was also incredibly kind to me when I was in my teens, but that’s another story
I think that’s about it for the neighbourhood extras
So I can get back to my original plan and talk about the Eye Man.Obviously this was the Optician. He lived in the Clinic right by the Infant school. Of course, these people always lived where they worked
Teachers didn’t have families…they lived at school. Parky lived at the park. The Milk Man lived on his float 
Well it's a short story about the Eye Man
I might just get to it this message
When I was 4, I started school. We were independent kids. As soon as we learnt to walk, we weren’t really welcome at home. Home was basically a place where you ate, slept, and was punished.
No, that’s not exactly true. To be fair, there were some good times. My Mother’s poetry….the singing around the piano…my Fathers hilarious songs that were made up on the spot. Cuddles with my Dad (which my Mum banned a little later on for some bizarre reason, and no…there was nothing sordid going on there…just a touch of jealousy I think).
Family outings could also be very entertaining. We’d rush up to put our best clothes on, knowing that when we came downstairs again, mother would have proudly donned her sane head. The two families we tended to visit outside of our community had children and we would have a ball. Few toys between us, but oodles of experience in making up out own entertainment.
So when I started school, my mother took there on my first day, and left me to make my own way home. I don’t honestly remember her taking me anywhere else after that, if it was within walking distance. Maybe one day, I’ll tell you about how she left me at school and then moved house. Didn’t leave me the address . Took me ages to find them
I might just get to it this message
When I was 4, I started school. We were independent kids. As soon as we learnt to walk, we weren’t really welcome at home. Home was basically a place where you ate, slept, and was punished.
No, that’s not exactly true. To be fair, there were some good times. My Mother’s poetry….the singing around the piano…my Fathers hilarious songs that were made up on the spot. Cuddles with my Dad (which my Mum banned a little later on for some bizarre reason, and no…there was nothing sordid going on there…just a touch of jealousy I think).
Family outings could also be very entertaining. We’d rush up to put our best clothes on, knowing that when we came downstairs again, mother would have proudly donned her sane head. The two families we tended to visit outside of our community had children and we would have a ball. Few toys between us, but oodles of experience in making up out own entertainment.
So when I started school, my mother took there on my first day, and left me to make my own way home. I don’t honestly remember her taking me anywhere else after that, if it was within walking distance. Maybe one day, I’ll tell you about how she left me at school and then moved house. Didn’t leave me the address
. Took me ages to find them 
