Where I am now

My life did not come to an end on Friday 23rd March 2012 (as one one-time reader of one of my blogs surmised).  Nor did my photography stop.  Nor did my cooking.  Nor did my interest in dates. Nor my memories (though I have to say my forgettory is getting better than my memory). It is simply that I couldn't cope with having so many blogs and decided to concentrate on my main one - Rambles from My Chair. You'll be most welcome.  If you wish to see more family history and memories just click on the link and join me there.   The posts that would have appeared in this site may be infrequent but who knows you might fall for the rest of my meanderings!
 

Making Pictures

These blocks were in Killerton House, Devon.  I used to have some the same when I was little.  They make up six different pictures.

A letter opener

This letter opener was made by Dad. He also made pokers suing the same technique of putting washers on a metal bar and then fashioning them into squares.

Col and Ethel's wedding

At Easter 1938 Mum and Dad's friends Col and Ethel were married and Mum was the bridesmaid, Dad the best man.

Dad looked handsome and...

Mum looked beautiful.    . Don't they scrub up well!

Mum's necklace

Jo and I sorted through the family jewellery recently and one of my main disappointments was being unable to find photos of the items with their original wearers.

This is one exception.

It shows Mum at the age of 12 in 1921 wearing a coral necklace. Prior to finding the photo I had imagined the necklace was Victorian. However, I now suspect that it was Mum's. I think someone posing for a studio photo at that time would more likely have worn their own favourite piece of jewellery rather than a 'hand-me-down' from a mother or aunt.

A Certificate

My Mother always reckoned that Nana was a better artist than she was. Sadly I've never seen any works of art that Nana did to be able to take a judgement on the issue. Nana did however, at the age of 20, receive this certificate from the grandly titled Society of Science, Letters and Art of London.

Regrettably, upon investigation I find that the Society whilst sounding grand seems to have been fairly transitory and created primarily for the aggrandisment of its members. It seems that it hoped to have itself confused with the Society of Arts and similar august bodies so that anyone describing themsles as a Fellow of the Society of Science, Letters and Art might be mistaken for a member of one of the more genuine bodies.

I cannot imagine that Nana would have sent off an oil painting to such a body unless she had thought it genuine so it is quite possible that it presented itself to the general public as a valid judge of paintings - possibly even charging a fee for such judgement. It seems quite ironic that Nana kept this certificate all her life and yet not a single painting of hers survives.

Dad on a Motorbike (or two)

And Dad's nephews Dudley and Walter Dennison on his bike.

A bargain

My Dad always said that Mum cost him 18 shillings. I reckon he got a bargain!

Family Spoons

Having sorted thought the jewellery I undertook to show readers of my Rambles Blog one or two pieces but before I do I thought I would blog about some of the other things I’ve been cataloguing. I have concluded such postings should also be on this blog so today’s little show is family spoons:-


This is my grandmother’s Christening spoon. Her name was Florence Katrine Spencer and she was christened in 1877.


This is my Mum’s Christening spoon. She was christened in 1909.


This is my Christening spoon. I was christened in 1949.


This is a spoon from David’s first Christmas 1986. Sadly. he was not to live long enough to have a Christening spoon.


This is Richard’s christening spoon – a replica of an Edwardian one – from GB. Richard was christened in 1988.



This is a christening spoon given to Richard by his other Godfather, Paul.



This is Uncle Eric's christening spoon. Uncle Eric was Mum's brother and died childless so GB and I inherited his things.



These are just a couple of many spoons and forks that we have which are inscribed HFB being from Nana and Grandpa’s sets – the HFB stands for Henry and Flora Body. We use them on a day to day basis. Apparently Grandpa won a number of sets playing bowls at the Childwall Abbey pub.


This spoon is a cut above the average spoon that you buy in tourist places being heavier and larger. For as long as I can remember it ‘sat’ in one of Mum and Dad’s sugar bowls.



This spoon is from my Great Aunt Maude’s first marriage to Will Noble. Nana’s sister, born Annie Maude Spencer, she married William Thomas Noble in 1897. The spoon is hallmarked London 1896 and inscribed N for Noble.



This was a wedding gift to Mum from – the E representing her new surname – from a girl in the office. There was much of a guessing game about what the gift was to be and one of the clues was that the gift ‘sat’. It turned out that it ‘sat’ in a sugar bowl, being a sugar spoon.


Caddy spoon used on a day to day basis by Mum until tea bags became the norm. It is of foreign silver.



This spoon belonged to my Great Great Great Grandmother who was born Ann Gomm Young (1819-1916). Note the number 4 beneath the initials AGY suggesting it was one of a set of six and it was obviously a gift prior to 1822 when she married James Spencer and therefore changed her initials.


And a caddy spoon which is hallmarked 1810/1 – late George III. It was a wedding gift to William Lane and Caroline Hows upon their wedding in 1813 and is inscribed WC. They were my great, great, great grandparents. The spoon was passed on to my great grandmother, Louisa Sophia Lane (later known as “Grandma Spencer”) when she was an hour old on 29th August 1849. The idea being that it should be passed on through the eldest girl in the family. She in turn gave it to her eldest daughter, my great aunt Maude, who passed it to Mum. Mum gave it to me to keep safe for Bryony and it was passed on to her some years ago. So this little spoon has come down through six generations; long may it continue to do so.

 

Things my Grandmother said

I have thought of a couple more things that Nana used to say that rarely get a mention in our house:-

Up the little wooden hills to bed.

This and better might do. This and worse will never do!

I love the second of those two. So often appropriate to my lifestyle nowadays.

46 Queens Drive

When my grandparents first moved into the house where my Mum was brought up the address was 32 Priory Road. This later changed to 32 Queens Drive and then the number changed again – to 46 Queens Drive.


The house was on the corner of Heywood Road and this is the view down Priory Road towards Childwall View and the Rocket.


It was taken around 1908 and if you peer closely you can just about make out the cows in the field on the right. Mum could look out of the front bedroom window and see over fields all the way to the Runcorn transporter bridge.



After Nana left the house in the mid 1960s the house was demolished and the site became a petrol filling station, known to us as The Garage.

(Thanks to jamese for reminding me that I hadn't posted these pictures before.)

Keepsakes

A couple of Mum’s keepsakes.


This little shoe – about an inch high – was presumably on her Wedding cake. Mum and Dad were married at Childwall Parish Church on 6th August 1938.


This was presumably on a cake on their wedding anniversary in 1963.


And was this from when GB was born or was it to commemorate my arrival? Either way, this little chap is around 60 years old! Doesn’t look a day over One.

Firsts

Some notes made around 1990:-

Mum's Firsts
First memory - At age 21/2 Being taken into mother's bedroom and being shown newly-born Eric.
First disaster - The day Barry started school - turning around to let him go and falling over a woman bending down to tie her child's shoelaces - consequently tearing a ligament in her hand.
First Wage Packet - 2s 6d for writing an article for the Liverpool Echo and then 15s a week for her first job.
First love - Arthur Mason who lived next door and was older than Mum and \pa. He took her skating (chaperoned of course) at the age of eighteen.
First success - Writing an article for The Guide magazine and getting a nature book for it. Aged about 12 years.


Dad's Firsts
First memory - Walking down Larch road, Birkenhead.
First disaster - Eating apples off a tree in the Birkenhead garden of a man named Cumsty (who was subsequently murdered) and being very ill. Or on a Sunday school treat to Leasowe Embankment, falling into the sea and hearing his brother Frank say "Oh, look. He's swimming." Being rescued and carried to Leasowe Lighthouse.
First wage packet - Miss Sharples newspaper shop delivering newspapers. Then Furness Withy Office but cannot recall the sum.
First love - Myself! Or Rita Nichol later to become Rita Blaycock, financial adviser to Birkenhead Operatic Society.
First success - Lord Knows! Playing for the school rugby team.


GB's Firsts
First memory - The winter of '47, aged 2 1/2, lots and lots of snow.
First disaster - Sticking fingers in a plug (the round 15 amp plugs of those days). (Judging by the ensuing debate about where this took place it occurred more than once - including at Dorothy Penningon's at Moels and in our living room where he shot across the room and nearly reached the other wall.)
First wage packet - Ayrton Saunders - 19s 6d a week which became 19s 11d after five weeks; left after six weeks when told he wasn't paid to think.
First love - Dorothy S******n, from age 5 to 11.
First success - Dorothy S******n....

Eric Spencer Body

St Patrick’s Day is the birthday of my Uncle Eric who died a couple of years ago in his 90s. He was born at 6pm on 17th March 1912.


This is Uncle Eric as cheeky-looking schoolboy at Prescot Grammar.


After school he worked for Meccano where his picture was used in an advertising poster.


Like Dad, Uncle Eric was a motorbike enthusiast.



He then moved to Vauxhall Motors in Luton before the War interrupted his employment and sent him to N Africa and Italy.


After the War he returned to Vauxhall where he continued to work until his retirement.


He kept a diary for part of the war years and I have spent many a ‘happy’ hour translating them from his notorious scribble to English. So far I am about two thirds of the way through but as the war went on and paper got in shorter supply his writing got smaller and smaller and even more unintelligible. This sample is from the early ‘ easy’ days.


In Mum’s eyes Eric and his wife Doris were notorious for moving house though they probably didn’t move much more than many people. Mum, having only lived in two houses her whole life, could not understand their desire to find pastures new. His last few months were spent in the Hebrides where GB looked after him but prior to that he had lived on Anglesey and he is pictured above in his ninetieth year with Mum.

A number of younger folk knew Mum and Dad and will remember them after GB and I have gone but it seems a real shame to me that once GB and I have passed on there will remain no one who really knew Uncle Eric. Such is life....