Cottages On Warren
A Memory of Talacre.
Many, many, happy memories of holidays in a cottage on the Warren located next door to old Tynans (sorry if not spelt right) bakery. Waking up to the smell of pies and bread, while being sent to the stand pipe on the old dusty main road for the water. Waiting for the call of the calor gas truck, the excitement of the weeeeooooop from the loud speaker on its roof then CALLLLLOR GAS CALLLING....CALLORRRR GAS CALLIN....
The ice cold water in the rain tubs in which everything from milk to my action man was kept cool. I swear it never got warm, that water, on the hottest day. Or the vulcan bombers, drawing a black veil over the cottage and the roar of the engines sending me gran under the table (those planes were so low you could pass a cuppa to the crew as they passed over...they always dropped em off on the way back with a waggle of the wings in thanks).
Remember the evenings spent listening to a play on radio 4, while paraffin lamps cast golden glows on the walls as toast and jam was happily crunched by all....then off to bed with a penny night light floating on a saucer, and many a happy giggle as parents and uncles passed the bedroom window to the toilet in the shed and the sounds of falling shovels and spades drowned out words children our age didn't know about.
Remember collecting the coal washed up from Point of Aye colliery on the beach, while watching me wellingtons disappearing into the quick sand - but was worth it for the colors of the flames, reds an blues when burnt.
The walks to Taylors cafe, put "everyones gone to the moon" on the juke box while looking for the latest Sgt Fury comic and sucking a gobstopper...then across to the slot machine in the old shed across the road..many a penny won there to go in me old tobacco pocket money tin (many a happy time just sniffing the inside of the tin). Then the walk to the old shed by the dunes that sold everything a kid could want, from paper gliders to fishing nets and wind up tin toys...or if mum and dad weren't looking, those postcards with half dressed ladies on a and sweating red faced man...have so many more memories to share..maybe i'll write a book...thanks for letting me rant x
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