Memories Of Growing Up In 1940s Tideswell
A Memory of Tideswell.
Up past the lightning tree, its trunk split in half where it was struck. Round Conjoin Lane and back home to Mum. Big brother and sister, our Vee and our George, fair-haired and handsome, this brother of mine. Our Vera is dark, beautiful and mysterious, seven years older, I love her to bits. She puts my long hair in rags and teases me. Our George brings his mates, 'Melly Hood' I call one, his name is Melvin and he wears a coat with a hood on his head. Dad's garden in summer ablaze with colour and scents, delicious. Golden Rod attracting the bees and butterflies, Calendulas, marigolds, hearts ease, pansies. Mum standing in queues at the butchers and bakers. Coming home with a large tin of tomatoes, we had them for tea, they tasted heavenly. Going out to play with my friends, skipping and hopscotch, pinching crab apples from Uncle Bernard's orchard. Growing up in Forties England in a village so small, everyone knows everyone, warts and all. MEMORIES.
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