Memories of the early seventies – Arguments and a giant chair

It was December 1972 and Pappy was ill. He’d caught a cold from me, a cold I’d brought home from school and, as always, it had gone to his chest. He only had one lung after all. For days he’d been coughing and wheezing. My own cold had turned into a chest infection and I was off school myself which was almost unheard of. Mother made me go to school no matter how sick I was but they’d promptly packed me off home when they saw my feverish face and I’d been sent to the doctor for some penicillin. The little capsules proved impossible to swallow  so Pappy opened them up and I had to take the bitter tasting powder on a teaspoon. Continue reading Memories of the early seventies – Arguments and a giant chair

Climbing to the top of the chapel

13 September 2018

When we stepped inside the chapel it was empty except for the lady who sells tickets for the tower tour and a single guide. Entry to the chapel is free but there is a small charge to climb the one hundred and sixty six steps to the top of the forty six metre high tower. This was what we’d walked so far for and £3.50 seemed a small price to pay for a birds eye view of the park. Continue reading Climbing to the top of the chapel

Memories of the 1970’s School’s Out

September 1972

From the moment I got my first record player, along with a big box of singles, I loved listening to music. Often I would sit at the piano in the front room, where all the silver cups Dad had won at bird shows were displayed, and pick out a tune or two, rather badly by ear. We listened to the radio a lot when I was small too and the songs of the sixties evoke many memories. Mother and I would waltz around the bedroom singing along to Englebert Humperdink’s Last Waltz and Mother would often make me sing Those Were The Days or Sing a Rainbow to her. In the summer of 1972, though, a pop song captured a moment in time for me like no other had before.  Continue reading Memories of the 1970’s School’s Out

Memories of the early 1970’s – strikes power cuts and bombs

January to August 1972

1972 began with a coal miners’ strike. As our coal fire was long gone, replaced by a far less attractive but much more practical gas fire, this didn’t seem to be a big concern for us, at least at first. Even so, I had a sneaking sympathy for the miners’ demands for more money. Spending all day in the dark at the bottom of a dirty mine seemed a horrible and dangerous job, deserving of a rich reward, especially when the Prime Minister earned so very much and seemed to spend most of his time sailing about on a yacht. Continue reading Memories of the early 1970’s – strikes power cuts and bombs

The hottest walk and a bad descision

7 August 2018

My fourth Running School appointment fell on what felt like the hottest day yet. The temperature was in the thirties when I left home and the humidity level was off the scale. In my rucksack a big camelback water bottle was slowly defrosting. When I got up this morning I filled it and put it in the freezer. Somehow I didn’t think it was going to last the whole walk so I was desperately trying to ration my sips.  Unlike my previous two sessions, which were both early afternoon, this one was at midday so I was going to have to walk home too.  Continue reading The hottest walk and a bad descision

Inspecting the damage

28 July 2018

This morning, while Commando was running round parkrun, I went back to the Old Cemetery for a closer look at the fire damage. According to the Echo, not always the most factually accurate of local newspapers, two Titanic memorials were damaged by the fire, along with a World War I grave belonging to Kate Trodd, a nurse who served in the Voluntary Aid Detachment. Whether I’d be able to locate any of these damaged graves remained to be seen.  Continue reading Inspecting the damage

Scorched earth in the Old Cemetery

23 July 2018

Unbeknown to us, while we were camping in the hot, dusty Catton Park field preparing for Thunder Run, a small disaster was unfolding on Southampton Common. On Saturday, a fire broke out in the Old Cemetery, caused, it’s believed, by the unrelenting sun shining on broken glass and setting fire to the desiccated and overgrown grass. Commando read about it in the local paper and, once we’d unpacked, rested a little and dashed around the supermarket to stock up for the week, we went to have a look.  Continue reading Scorched earth in the Old Cemetery

Memories of the early 70’s – change, fear and injustice

1970/1

As 1970 drew to a close the year ahead really did seem filled with promise. Alex was expecting another baby, although I was still very vague about where it was coming from. She had also moved into a terraced house in Weston. As Mother didn’t drive and Dad’s Hillman car had been sold, being so much nearer made it far easier to visit her. Although there were limited buses this was exactly what we did on Boxing Day. For some reason Pappy didn’t come with us but he and Alex never did see eye to eye. Continue reading Memories of the early 70’s – change, fear and injustice

Hobbling to The Running School

10 July 2018

The back thing did not disappear as unexpectedly as it came. It dragged on and on… For the last three weeks the pain has been more or less incapacitating. It’s worse when I stand still or sit down, sleeping is also a bit of an issue, as is walking, bending, more or less everything really. So  I’ve been hobbling around with a horrible pain in my right leg, hip and back and a trio of numb toes. Needless to say, there hasn’t been much real walking going on apart from the odd limp up to the village and back. Continue reading Hobbling to The Running School

Hythe, powerboats, hovercraft and a final postcard

10 May 2018

With a little help from Google Maps we found our way back to Hythe High Street. Here we sat for a moment or two on a shady bench and perused Google Maps. My next objective was on Shore Road where another famous resident of Hythe once lived. While I was searching for it I spotted a road called Sir Christopher Court.  Behind it was a small park facing the water.  Might this be where the hovercraft stone was hidden? As the park was right at the beginning of Shore Road, we decided to check it out.   Continue reading Hythe, powerboats, hovercraft and a final postcard