Low Bradley Farm

A Memory of Medomsley.

I lived in Low Bradley Farm in the late 60's early 70's with my dad Peter Dominey, Mam Dorothy Dominey and brother Christopher. I was only just over a year old when we moved onto the farm and left when I was 7. The farm was owned by a Dr Boon, not the nicest of men as I remember, he would turn up every now and again and just walk in without knocking first. Dads wage was basically the farmhouse and buildings and wheras Mam worked alongside side Dad in the early years, she then got a job as a bus conductress to bring in extra money.

I have such great memories of our life on a farm, there was lots of space for us little ones to explore, the barn where we fitted a rope swing, the tractors and old ploughs we would sit on and pretend to drive, the fields we were free to run in, the heap in the middle of the field that we would venture onto, bonfire night at our neighbours farm (Henry Green) . We did not have an indoor bathroom, the toilet was across the yard and our bath was tin and hung on the wall outside. Dad would carry it into the sitting room and put it in front of the coal fire. It would then be filled and me and my brother would have to share it. The kitchen with the aga cooker was huge and I remember sitting on the aga watching my mam while she prepared meals and baked, we would sing songs while she played the guitar or piano, the wooden clothes airer that you lowered from the ceiling, all the muddy wellington boots lined up as you came in the door, the pantry was as big as the kitchen and as well as food, it also housed the horses saddles, two sitting rooms (one we only used at Christmas time) I can still picture the real Christmas tree, the coal fire, the streamers and homemade decorations, the four huge bedrooms, one which was a playroom was directly above the kitchen and we used to peep through the holes in the floorboards to see what was going on, the huge piano on the back wall of the main sitting room. No mobile phones back then, just a landline, the number I still recall to this day.

Lambing season. I always wanted to help where I could and one day I remember my dad asking me to pick up a lamb as we needed to move them to another area and the ewe starting chasing me, didn't know I was able to run as fast as I did with wellies on ha ha. The reality of lambing season, the highs and the lows, the rejected or orphan lambs that then became pets demanding milk every few hours. Then there was the chickens, they roamed the farmyard through the day and as a result lay they eggs everywhere, it was like a daily easter egg hunt around the farm and in the haystack.

Harvest time, the bailer, what a monstrous machine, then getting it all dried and put into the haystack, great place to play and climb, although not sure Mam and Dad would agree.

There was no street / outdoor lighting so once night came it was pitch black. The darkness went on for what seemed forever and going to the toilet during the night was an ordeal, you either held it in (although I'm sure we would have had some kind of substitute under the bed) or made your way to the toilet with a torch in hand.

The walk to school was hard ( we actually appeared in the local paper about the trouble we faced in the winter) as we didnt have the luxury of a car and our school' Bishop Ian Ramsay School' was in the village. I can't remember a lot about my time there but do recall one teacher Mrs Suddick and her daughter Lindsay.

There were a couple of shops in the village, the village store is where we would order our weekly shop and it would get delivered and the other shop run by Fred and Joan Chester is where if we were good ha ha we would get some sweets.

Life on the farm for my Dad and Mam was hard, but for us as children it was great. Wouldn't change my time there for the world.

We left in 72 and moved briefly to Lonsdale Street, High Westwood before moving to Tweed Avenue in Leadgate.

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