Cranham, 1907

Our Honeymoon

Pat (nee Gilbert) and I were married at St. Stephen's church Sneinton in Nottingham July 1960. We arrived in Gloucester the same afternoon to be met at the train station by our hosts for a 3day honeymoon, they were the owners of the Black Horse Inn in Cranham. We  have wonderful memories of the village the church and of Prinknash Abbey. We still have a beer tankard we purchased at the Abbey in thier famous dark grey pottery.
We emigrated to South Africa in 1972 and in the year 2000 (our 40th wedding anniversary) we celebrated by having a renewal of our vows at Parkdale Congregational Church roughly 1mile from St.Stephen's Church which was attended by most of our friends from our early wedding days.
A trip to see friends in Bath took us for lunch in Cranham, once again at the Black Horse Inn. All the memories came flooding back and we added more photographs to the ones of so long ago. It was a wonderful experience.

Walks

Brockworth oh Brockworth, what a lovely village! I grew up there and my dad used to take my brother Melvyn and I for walks up the hill. Castle Hill and Coopers Hill. I remember walks from 1975 onwards, especially on the lower slopes of Coopers Hill where we used to stop at the spring and have some water from it. Boy oh boy that used to be freezing, until the summer of 1976. A very hot year that was, the spring was not as cold but it was still as nice though. We used to drink it from dad's cupped hands till we could drink no more. I was around 5-6 years old then. My memories of this will never die, especially now when I took four of my children there today, 10/09/2006, oh they loved it, though it has changed a bit, but it bought back memories and the children loved it so.
On the way back down in the 70's we would pick blackberries and Dad would have a handful. Melvyn and I would eat a mouthful from his hands, ooh they were so lush! Brockworth do have the best blackberries you will ever taste.
My aim in life now is to take up residence in Brockworth again. I have too many fond memories to mention.

sunday mornings

My mother in law, then Marie Elizabeth Burston born 1921 in Wales, whilst in service at Hartlebury House used to go to church every Sunday morning. The postman played the big organ.
Every morning she had to give him and the gardener a piece of leftover cake and a cup of tea. Ernie the gardener was 18 years old and very shy. He took her to the pictures in Stroud one day and she invited him home for tea one Sunday.
The very next day she received a letter from her mother informing that they had moved from Bedwelty in Wales to Blackheath in Birmingham and that she was to come and get a job there as there were plenty. She went to work in a laundry and then an engineering firm which is where she met her husband Albert Victor Carr.

The Old House

The first time I left Scotland was to visit my grandparents at the old house, Kay and Bill. I was excited, and after many trips we lived with them for a while. Papa always had a bag of pennies for us and Grandma introduced me to literature. At that time we shared a love for Cliff Richard. We moved to Rose Cottage, and had the best ever Easter when Laurie hid so many Easter eggs in the garden for us, there may still be some there!  Gloucestershire is the only place in England that I would ever consider living in.  Uncle John was the postie at that time. As kids we were very afraid of the story of lady in the lake. nowadays, I am convinced the old house was haunted, especially the 'dressing room' just outside Bill's bedroom.  I also remember the day there was a fox hunt, and the fact that Laurie did not want these people on his land. I quite agree!  I hope one day to go back and check out Uncle John's 'phonebox' at the Woolpack.