Good morning. I took the day off yesterday and went back to my home town of Burton upon Trent. Arrived at my sisters house at 12.30pm. Took my own picnic, and sat in the garden. It was a bit chilly but I had put a single bed quilt in my car to drape over my legs. Then the sun came out and it was quite lovely. Her garden is on a corner plot and they have built decking into it with a seating area. It was lovely to spend time chatting.
When I left there I went to see Aunty Pat, she is settled into her new home now. Her little bungalow is ideal for a single person. She was surprised to see me. I didn't warn her in advance because I knew she would be there. We sat outside her front door, she has a cast iron table and chairs in her little sun trap garden. When I left she said it was a lovely surprise visit.
From there I went to Stretton Church where Uncle Stan is buried. Pat has not been able to get there for a long time so she was worried that the grave would be in a messy state. It wasn't too bad, the mower has been keeping the area tidy. I took shears with me and trimmed round the headstone. I exchanged some of the faded artificial flowers for some newer ones which freshened up the display. Then I photographed it and have sent it to Pat, to give her peace of mind that the grave is looking good.
A few snaps of St Mary's Church, Stretton.
On my way out I drove down the street where I was brought up. A typical council estate. There were no cars then, we were able to run amok. I had a scooter, and a pair of roller skates, and later a bike. We had a big green area where we could play out all day. No worries about getting run over. I remember my mum standing at the front door bellowing down the street to come in for our dinner. Oh the embarrassment.
We had ice cream vans selling their wares, and the rag and bone man came, yelling something which I could never understand. Running in to mum to ask for an armful of rags, and coming back with a goldfish in a plastic bag. They were happy times.
The house where we used to live. It ain't half changed.
An old photo, a bit crappy but it's the only one I have. Concrete posts with wire through marked the boundaries. Our privet hedge was very sparse compared to some of the others. A rickety gate falling off it's hinges. My dad was not a gardener, nor did he do any DIY. He had no interest in the house or garden whatsoever. We had a wilderness to run around in.
Straight back up the motorway arriving back home at 8.30pm. A nice day out.
looking like it's going to be a sunny day today. A walk I think is on the cards.
Thanks for the comments still coming in to the recent Hope, not hopeless post, and thanks for the emails.
Thanks for popping in. We'll catch up soon. Toodle pip. ilona
That's a lovely house you were brought up in, Ilona. I like the way the gate is slightly ajar. So inviting. I love looking at old photographs. Which was your room, or was it around the back?
ReplyDeleteWonderfull news to hear that you had such a lovley day out.sounds like it was very enjoyable to you all.x
ReplyDeleteI prefer the house as it used to be. Original windows non of the UPVC most have these days. Love the rickety gate. Much more homely in my opinion.
ReplyDeleteLike barb m,in her comment above,I much prefer the house in the old picture.I can remember my aunties house,in Tutbury looking like that.I used to love going there.They had chickens as pets in the garden.It always seemed so homely and was full of sparkling Tutbury glass,although looking back the rest of the house was full of all sorts,lol.I used to love it at Christmas time,because the house had a lovely view of Tutbury church and I would look out of the window and wish that I lived there.I dont like going back to places that have changed beyond recognition.My grans house in Tutbury has been altered so much,with extensions and garages,that it breaks my heart to look at it.Where there was grass,little pathways and beautiful roses growing,is now just brick buildings.xx
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