Holidays at Lane End Farm, Flockton
I lived in Halifax but spent all my school holidays at Lane End Farm. It was my grandad and grandma's farm, George and Carrie Morritt. Later it was my uncle George and aunt Ada's. Through all this time right up to 1956 l enjoyed being part of the family of farmers. Playing in the old barn (1870, I think), collecting the eggs, feeding the pigs and riding on the back of the tractor that my cousin Stephen drove. Earlier, I remember riding on the back of the cart horse when my grandad ran the farm. He had a cart and went around the village selling his vegetables. My mum lived there from being 11 to getting married. We used to go down to the beck to paddle and collect bluebells from the wood there... many happy memories!
Relatives of Yester Year
Hi, my father Cyril Ledger was born in Upton in 1905, but lived at Holmes Farm Flockton with his father and mother, Herbert and Clarissa Ledger, who were farming there in the mid 1900's, don't know when they left there, only just recently found about this bit of history, so thought I'd put this bit of information forward anyway, as Flockton now becomes part of my history. I live in Western Australia, have done for the past 50 years, with no regrets, but it's nice to be able to look back on things. kind Regards to all, Mick Ledger
Memories of West Yorkshire
It was great sliding down the Tops on pieces of cardboard or a washer top, we went so fast hoping not to hit a car on the low road. When I used to go to school in the morning on the way to pick up my friend I would get a twig from the privets, bend it and start collecting spider webs with dew on them, by the time we got to school we had a beautiful pattern, it became a ritual in the cold mornings on the way to school. This was in Thornhill. We were never afraid of exploring the countryside around the area as it was quite safe then used to go out and get tar balls from the freshly tarred roads and chew on them, we thought that this was the greatest thing. If you have any memories please post. Jean Bremner (nee Brown)
I was an evacuee in Middlestown in WWII, from East London. The first time was with my Mother and we were billeted in a small cottage which backed on to a barn belonging to a farm run by Mr and Mrs Cowan. We were there for approximately a year and my memories of that first year are rather blurred. We came back to London for a short time where our house was destroyed by a land mine and I was returned to Middlestown once again with a friend 'Kenneth Turbot'. We spent a happy year there this time living in the farmhouse with Mr and Mrs Cowan and their two daughters. We helped out with the farm work out of school hours whilst Mr Cowan was working in a coal mine. The farm was situated next to a large dairy farm as far as I can remember. I made many friends but the only name I can recall is 'Ginger' a lad who lived in the cottages along the road... Read more
Ackroyd Coffee Bar
Just down the road from the Shoulder of Mutton pub was Ackroyds coffee bar. In the 60s we young ones would meet, listen to the juke box, drinking frothy coffee.
The horse and cart outside the pub belonged to Herman Wood the local milkman. The cart was a daily sight outside the pub.
I was born in Huddersfield and lived in Clayton West until I got married in 1973. I lived in The Royds with my parent where my father was the local postman, in fact many of my relations lived in The Royds or near by.
My fondest memories of the village are fishing in the dams which were located just of Bilham Road, creating really long sledging runs from what we, as children, called the the dam down the hill, through several gardens, across The Royds and down Back Lane and cutting throwing sticks out an old ladies hedge and going into the cricket field to see who get them to go the farthest.
I too remember Herman Wood delivering the milk with his horse and cart and going potato picking on his farm.
The landlady of the Shoulder of Mutton pub had a pet sheep which bemused me as a child. The pub car park was also the stopping point for the mobile library which I regularly frequented.
Round... Read more
My grandmother lived in Clayton West and my four cousins and I often slept over. Her surname was Sleaford but I have no memory of the actual address. I have just very clear memories of the worn stone steps into the cellar and the bedroom we cousins shared, which was accessed via a short ladder from the stairs going upstairs, the door being set high in the wall. The room was tucked under the eaves - I don't suppose it exists any longer. We emigrated to South Africa in the fifties and although I have been back to England, I have never been back up north ....
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