The Market

 Good morning. This 1960's picture of Burton on Trent outdoor market brings back happy memories. We lived in Stretton and the highlight of every week was to get the Blue Bus on a Saturday morning to town. We didn't get pocket money from our parents, because there was never any left over from the household budget. I saved up my Birthday and Christmas money to spend mostly at the market.

We moved house to a small terrace house which was closer to town. Some would call it a cottage, but in truth it was in a poor state of repair. Nothing cottagey about it. We could walk to town any time we liked. By this time I had left school and got my first job. It was in a small leather shop which sold bags of all types and sizes. My duties were to go around the shelves with a duster, making sure everything looked spick and span. They were stacked from floor to ceiling so climbing a ladder was involved. After five days of this I decided that it wasn't the job for me. The boss also decided that I wasn't the compliant slave that he envisaged would be an asset to the business. We parted company and he paid me £5 10 shillings. This job turned me off dusting for life. 

Moving on I applied for a job at Woolworths, and was instantly told yes, when can you start. I fondly remember those days when you could walk out of a job and immediately find another one. Working at Woolys was ten times better. The store was buzzing with customers and I worked on the sweetie counter. It was great fun. Wrapped and unwrapped sweets had to be weighed up. I was put in charge of stock checking upstairs in the stockroom, and ordering from the suppliers. 

Now I had a regular wage coming in, albeit very small, I could start to budget my money. Half was given to mum for my board and lodgings. I moaned a bit but it felt right that I should help her out. Mum and dad had separated and she got an allowance. He paid in part of his wages, and mum had to go to the  Police Station every week to collect it. She was doing a part time job in a factory canteen to make ends meet. And as you might know if you have been reading my blog for sometime, the money saving tips she taught me have stayed with me for life.  

Life as a teenager in the sixties was exciting and fun. Going to the market on a Saturday was part of it. I was getting into dressmaking at that time. I bought the fashion magazines, saw a picture of a dress that I liked, and made my own version of it. The market was the cheapest place to buy the fabric. I made mini skirts with one yard of material. They just about covered my bum. My friends asked if I could make one  for them, so I took orders. 

Those were the carefree days of the sixties. Now all memories. Life carries on, we have to make the most of it. Have a good weekend.

Thanks for popping in. Toodle pip.   ilona

Bowl 'em over

 Good morning. This popped up on my Burton on Trent memories page. I remember the Bowling Alley well. When I first tried tenpin bowling I found I was pretty good at it. I was recruited onto the Junior Bowling League. From then on I went every week. It felt good to be mixing with people of all ages, and I was pleased that they thought I was good enough. My first taste of proper grown up life.  

Top Rank Bowling alley, Bargates. Circa 1968.

I still have my badges.

I enjoy bowling but have not been for quite a long time. Perhaps I ought to go again, to see if I can still do it. Careful though, don't want to do my back in. 😨

I did a bus to town and a walk back yesterday, and have managed to lose the photographs. Thought I would take a short cut loading them, now they are gone. Oooops. 

Sunny again today. I have things to do. Catch ya later. Toodle pip.   ilona

Remembering good times.

Good morning. Crafty Club was a good laugh yesterday. It was Pat's birthday so we celebrated with cake. She was over the moon with her lovely gifts. 

I took along my ongoing project, covering the gilet with scraps of fabric. You can see the progress by comparing the two photographs. I have decided not to cover the whole thing with patchwork. I shall stop just below the armpits, then find one large piece of fabric to cover the rest of it, carrying on with the stitching right to the top.  

I have copied some old photographs. I worked on Blackpool Pleasure Beach. when I was 19 - 20 - 21. 

My younger brother Stephen. I think this was the last time I saw him. He moved to India and came back for a visit. 

Me and the boyfriend camping. We had a tent in the back. He didn't like camping so we went in hotels after one night. 

We toured the south of England. The Eden Project was interesting. About 23 years ago. 

Also went to London. Inside a pod at the London Eye. 

Then we went to the USA, three times. The upside down house. Orlando I think, can't remember. 

I have a lot of good memories, they far outweigh the bad ones. One has to carry on. I am in contact with a boyfriend from way back, 45 years or thereabouts. I remember some of that, it was about the time I was driving buses. I have photographs of him which I won't post on here. I like that someone remembers me from many years ago. 

Thanks for popping in. We'll catch up soon. Toodle pip.   ilona

Four years ago

 Looking back. It's four years since I made this photo collage. Worth another showing I think. 

Catch ya later. Toodle pip.   ilona

Relief

 I remember it well. 

Crate (490 x 539 x 402cms @ 60,000kgs) being delivered to Southampton Port this morning.

Such a relief to get your load off. 😎😍😜😁

Thanks to LHH for the photographs. 

It's sunny and I am going for a walk. Toodle pip.   ilona

Poppies

 Some poppy pictures for you.

Kingston upon Hull. April 2017

August 2020. Local walk. 

June 2011. Local walk. 

June 2014. East Yorkshire. 

September 2019.  Local walk. 

November 2010. London 

November 2010. London. 

Our village has been decorated, the ladies have been making poppies since the beginning of the year. Our school children had their service on the village green on Friday. 

We will remember them. 

ilona. 

Remembering The Old Rectory at Claxby.

 Good evening. I did a bit more work on the summerhouse today I screwed the new door in place where I took out the old one. It was a bit difficult because it is close to the fence and there is hardly any room to squeeze into. Then some more painting was done. Once I get a paintbrush in my hand there is no stopping me. I don't mind painting outside, it doesn't have to be perfect. A bit messy is ok. Just slap it on. 😁

A comment came in late last night. Nothing unusual about that, but it was for a blog post I wrote on the 12th of August 2013. Amazing that people are reading old posts. Some of you might remember that I found an abandoned house at Claxby, Lincolnshire, while out on a ramble. It was very sad to see that it had fallen into disrepair. The Old Rectory stands next to the church, in it's own extensive grounds. I photographed it. I went back there twice more a few years later, and it was disappearing under mountains of ivy, trees, and shrubs. 

28th January 2015. 

16th October 2022.

Thanks to Iddi P for this comment. 

Iddi P6 November 2024 at 21:43

This is now up for sale at auction. Loved reading all the posts about this place. Someone I know is keen to possibly buy and do up. This is the link to the auction x

There are 40 photographs on this listing. 

I never got to see the inside. I spoke to the Auction House today and sent them a link to my blog post. In the email I asked if I could go back one more time and take photographs before it is sold. As you can see it needs a lot of work doing to it. They say it has been empty for 25 years. The story I got from a local was that the owner was heartbroken when his wife died, he just locked it up and left it. 

The reserve price is £150.000, but I suspect it will go much higher than that. I hope someone rich buys it and brings it back to it's former glory. 

Time to go for a walk. 

Thanks for popping in. We'll catch up soon. Toodle pip.   ilona

Looking back.

 For those who would like to look back at some of Pat's blog. 

You will find a lot of posts on the Wayback Machine.  in the archives. 

RIP Pat. 

ilona. 8.10.2024

Caught on camera

There were lots of people with cameras at Sandtoft. Hundreds of photo's taken, and lots of videos recoded. Check out this one and see if you can spot me striding along. 

 

Ok, you don't have to look at the whole video. 

Catch ya later. Toodle pip.   ilona

Memories from yesterdays walk.

Good morning. Here are a few pics from yesterday. I did a five mile walk. 

It took ages because I stopped to talk to a lovely couple in their front garden. The lady loves a natter. He was watering the flower beds. And they have a little terrier who comes to the fence to say hello. She whispered to me that they are getting married. It's a secret because they haven't told anyone else. The big day is . . . . today. What is remarkable is that they are both 80, and they have been together 22 years. I was gobsmacked. How good is that. 

Walking on this path alongside a wood I saw a figure in the distance. Always alert as to what is going on around me, I noticed it was coming towards me. My camera has a pretty good zoom so I quickly got it out of my pouch attached to a waistband. Snap, gotcha. A precaution just in case things go wrong. They didn't. He was just a dog walker enjoying the sun with his dog. 

This deer was quite some distance away. There were two of them, they meandered their way towards the river. 

The fields are looking golden brown now. Mr tractor driver lining up his bales to load the trailer. 

Carefully does it. Must load perfectly straight so it doesn't topple off during transit. 

The path crosses an old railway line. I think they stopped using it ages ago. I often thought there must be a lot of scrap metal lying around which could be reclaimed. Well it looks like they are getting on with the job. I walked along the track in both directions and came across the machinery they are using to do the work. Sunday afternoon and nobody is about. Best time to explore. 

This section ready to be dismantled. First cut the track into suitable lengths. 

This reminds me of a job I did while employed at Leicester Heavy Haulage. I picked up a load of railway tracks, with sleepers still attached, from an old railway line in Leicestershire. The 40 foot trailer is stretched out to 60 feet. They are loaded five high. Easy enough to chain down. There was no means to weigh this once loaded for transport on the road. The crane has a weighing mechanism in the cab. Each piece can be weighed as it is lifted into place. Multiply that by five, plus the weight of the trailer and cab, and that will give an estimate of the gross weight. The men loading it said it will be fine. My tractor unit was plated for 38 tonnes gross weight. On special types with a police movement order that could be increased to 55 tonnes. This load did not have a movement order. I delivered it to Wareham in Dorset, The old lorry was struggling to pull the weight. When it eventually did go onto a weighbridge it was found to be 47 tonnes. Ooooops. The following loads on that job were then reduced to three high. 

Anyway, time is getting on. I have things to do. I will slot this video in here. If you have seen it on my channel yesterday you can give it a miss.

Thanks for popping in. Toodle pip.   ilona

Well dodgy.

Morocco cropped up on my news feed this morning.

Brits have been issued updated travel advice if they expected to visit Egypt or Morocco in the wake of serious events in the Middle East this weekend.

This reminded me of an incident that happened many years ago. I had a spell of freelance driving, self employed, driving for anyone who wanted to hire me. I had a phone call from someone offering me work. The job was to drive a coach to Morocco, deliver it, and they would fly me back. Sounds interesting I thought. Scary but I like a challenge. 

I asked around some experienced continental drivers for advice. Several phone calls later with the man who offered me the job, and I said yes, I would do it. 

It was getting close to the date to leave and I was having doubts. Something didn't seem right. What if they didn't fly me back and I was stranded. What if I was hijacked and the coach stolen. What if I was being set up. Up to that point I hadn't driven abroad before so was not familiar with going through borders, and customs, and suchlike. 

A week before the due departure date I decided it was going to be too risky. I rang the man and said I wouldn't do it. Didn't give a reason, just said no thanks. He was mighty angry, said I was wasting his time. I had enough UK work anyway to keep me going, and forgot all about Morocco.

Fast forward a year or so later. I had a phone call from someone saying they were from Customs and Excise, and could they come and interview me and ask some questions. Straight away I knew what it was going to be about. Two people came to my house, a man and a woman. I was right, it was about the Moroccan job. It was indeed dodgy. They couldn't give me specific details of their investigation, but it had to be about drugs. 

Luckily I was writing a diary at that time.  I wrote down everything that was said in the phone calls. Plus the most important bit of information, that I had turned the job down. The last thing they said was that I was right to refuse the job. I heard no more about it. 

I trust my own instincts, well most of the time. We can all do daft things, and it's ok to be wise after the event. But if something doesn't feel right, then it isn't right. 

Off to Coffee Morning now. The sun is shining. The weather forecast says snow is on it's way, but they have been saying that for a while now. I don't believe them

Catch ya later. Toodle pip.   ilona 

Big splash

This video came up on my sidebar. I remember standing by the Ford at Rufford and watching the cars drive through the water. I wasn't driving myself at the time, I was on a walk in the area and came across this source of amusement. Fords can be anything between a few inches deep, to a few feet deep when it rains. It is perfectly fine to drive through them when the conditions are right, saving a long and sometimes complicated diversion to get around them. People often take a chance though, and as you can see from this video they sometimes come unstuck and have to be helped out of the water. 

It reminded me of my watery mishap years ago, when I had a Honda CX500 custom. I had saved up long and hard for this bike. I passed the motorcycle test a few years before on a Kawasaki 100 which my friend bought, for me to practice on. I took the test in Southport. The first bike I bought for myself was a Honda 125. It was big enough for a starter bike. 

But then I wanted something bigger so I could ride further afield. Going all the way to Aberystwyth from the Midlands on a day out, on a 125 was a bit of a slog. 

I decided on a Honda 400. I wanted a new bike and I could just about afford that. I scoured the ads in Motorcycle News and found a dealer just off the North Circular Road in London. Off I went in my old van to view what they had in stock. When I got there they didn't have the chosen bike for me to look at. However they did have a 500, and with the discount of a cheque for £100 arriving in the post direct from Honda, I worked it out that I could afford it. Two weeks later I went back to London on the train to pick it up. 

My pride and joy. Big handlebars, small fuel tank, I was now an 'easy rider'. I bought panniers for it and could now go anywhere. I cleaned it and polished it every time I went out. The only new vehicle I have ever had.

 

So what's the connection between my bike and the Ford at Rufford? The local police had organised a competition and test for bikers, taking in 30 miles of all types of road riding. I thought it would be useful to brush up on my riding skills, and give me another piece of paper to go with my car, lorry, and coach driving certificates. 

Around the course they had checkpoints. The police were stationed to watch how the riders tackled junctions and other minor obstacles. At one point we had to guess the weight of our bike, and put it on a weighbridge to check it. I hadn't a clue so made a wild guess at 500 lbs. 

Then, I came across a Ford on a country road. Not very deep, but I hadn't encountered that before on my normal riding. What should I do? Stop, first gear, take it slowly, or go at it a bit faster and whizz through. I opted for the cautious option. All eyes were on me as I attempted to ride through the water. Police officers were watching. I hadn't reckoned on the stones on the bottom being green with slime and very slippery. I reached the centre and my beloved bike slid from underneath me. I was left with legs wide apart and the bike on it's side. 

The bike was heavy and I couldn't lift it. Two big blokes in uniform came to my assistance and pulled it out for me. Oh the embarrassment. I was also very angry that they had included this in the test. How ridiculous. If I had come across this on my normal days riding I would have found a way around it. Disgruntled, I gave up, and abandoned the rest of the course, and went to my aunties house nearby to calm down. 

A week later, I had a knock at the door. A policeman stood there. He said, you know that part of the test where you had to guess the weight of your bike. I said yes, hoping he would not mention the fact that they had to rescue me. It turned out that my guess was spot on, and he presented me with a set of drinks glasses as a prize. 

I had a few years of happy riding. Found some pals, went to some rallies, often camping at pubs, or farmers fields. A lady trucker friend from Hampshire had a BMW bike, and invited me to a rally in Holland. I went a day before her because she couldn't get time off work. 

I got on the boat, was chatting to a Dutch biker who had been in the UK for a holiday and was on his way back home. I said I was nervous about riding on the right hand side of the road. He said, no matter follow me as he was going in the same direction. We disembarked and I kept him in my sight.

The first roundabout we came to he started to go the wrong way around it. I stopped dead, this wasn't right. I laughed my head off. He had got used to our road system over the previous two weeks. He realised what he had done, so off we went again. He did a right turn straight into a 'no entry' road. By then I was thinking I would be better off on my own. I found the rally site. 

The time came to move to my present house, I had to sell my beloved Honda. I had become a fairweather rider anyway and it was spending a lot of time in the garage. I also needed the money for the new house. When I first had it, a friends husband said if I ever want to sell it, give him first choice, so I did. He snapped it up, still in pristine condition, and it went to Bristol. 

And there you have it. My biking life in a nutshell. A bit of a saga, my fingers are dancing all over the keyboard. 

It's raining at the moment, so I will keep busy indoors. Have a good weekend. Toodle pip.   ilona 

Tragedy

I am cutting up a pile of teeshirt scraps into smaller pieces to make a peg rug. To make the job less boring I watch videos. There is much more information to come out about the Maui wildfire tragedy, but the main stream media are slow on the uptake. They hold back, because to say the wrong thing might bring about multi lawsuits against the perpetrators of such crimes. They are looking after themselves, and will never disclose information which may result in them losing their sources of funding from those who pay them. You don't bite the hand that feeds you. 

Glenn Beck from Blaze TV however, is not tied to any such restrictions. He can say what he sees to be true, based on real facts. He doesn't have to make things up. There are millions of people coming forward with their own personal stories of what happened at Maui, in the time leading up to the fire, during the fire, and what has been going on since the fire. 

People on the ground have no reason to make it up. The warning sirens were not used, the Government turned the water supply off, and the road out of Mauri was blocked by the police. People were forced to endure that hell hole, with no escape. 

Now, the survivors are not being allowed back onto the site until they produce documented evidence that they own their house and land. Something off about that. 

Watch Glenn's video. You will either be consumed with sadness for the lost lives, a lot of children died, or hopping mad that there is a massive cover up. Read the comments for verification of what Glenn is reporting. 

Another weekend is almost upon us. I hope you have something nice planned. A treat, an outing maybe, a family meet up perhaps. Value every day.

Lots of love.   ilona 

Sharing memories with you

I used to enjoy theatre visits. Going to see a show, a play, or a concert was a treat. I was looking through a drawer the other day and found all these tickets. I don't want to throw them away because they are memories of different stages of my life.  

There is one ticket I forgot to put in this photograph. I went to see The Rolling Stones at Bingley Hall at the Staffordshire Showground in 1976. The ticket was £3. I went with friends and remember getting there early to stand at the front. No sitting, Bingley hall is like a big cattle shed. 

The two that stand out in the middle there are both from 2004. I had a very nice boyfriend who paid for those tickets. We went to see Cher at Sheffield, HallamFM Arena. Our seats were somewhere in the middle and we had to stand up to see the stage when everyone else did. It was so exciting, the costumes and stage were amazing. And of course Cher was fabulous. The same year, we went to Manchester Airport to see Concorde The Legend. This was a timed visit so people could filter through the aircraft without too much congestion, and take photo's of the interior. I was surprised at how small it was. 

I was on holiday down in the south west in 2010 when I went to the Minack Theatre. It is a lovely outdoor setting overlooking the sea. The play I didn't really understand, not something I would sit and watch at an indoor theatre. I had an afternoon visit to the theatre, then bought the ticket for the evening performance. It was magical to see the sun go down. 

The first time I saw The Lady Boys of Bangkock was in 2004, at the Lowry Waterfront at Salford. Me and the nice boyfriend were on our way to Blackpool, he bought the tickets, so we made the stop to see the show. It was in a massive marquee. The tables were set out in nightclub style, circular with tablecloths. We managed to get close to the front. I always prefer a front seat if I can get one. The show was an excellent display of music and dancing. 

I was having a few days in London in 2010. I went on the train and stopped at a Youth Hostel. I wanted to go to a theatre and had a look at what shows were on offer. I fancied Billy Elliot and went to Victoria Palace Theatre early and stood in the queue to see what last minute tickets were available, hoping that there would be one ticket left near the front. I got one for Row D. Perfect. It was a fabulous show. 

I was on holiday with the nice boyfriend in 2004, we were in Spain. We went to the FC Barcelona Football Stadium. Not that I am interested in football, but the experience of seeing a famous stadium was exciting. 

I have been to the Theatre Royal at Lincoln a couple of times. In 2001 there was a show called Puppetry of the Penis. Someone bought me a ticket as a surprise and didn't tell me what it was about. Imagine the audience as mainly women, my friend was a man, two guys came on stage, there is a big screen behind them, they then strip off and were completely naked. There was a camera focussed on their genitals, which projected them onto the screen. The audience was in uproar, and in awe. I didn't know that a long dangly sausage could be manipulated into so many different positions. It reminded me of those entertainers who make animals with long squishy balloons. If you are not sure what this is about, have a look at this short video. Full frontal with the bits covered up. 

Locally we have the Baths Hall and The Plowright Theatre. In 1998 I saw Jo Brand. In 2012 The Lady Boys of Bangkok, again. In 2015 An Evening of Burlesque. In 2013 Vampires Rock. In 2008 An Audience with William Roache, that's Ken Barlow of Coronation Street. I was disappointed with that, was hoping to see a different character from his screen presence. He didn't reveal much of his private life. In 2006, The London Gospel Choir. In 2016 Men of Steel, male voice choir with Lesley Garrett. In 2005 comedian Jack Dee. In 2004 The Rumble Band. 

Other theatres and venues. In 2010 a ride on The London Eye. In 2003 Meat Loaf at the NEC. In 2012 The King and I, at the Alhambra Bradford. In 2001 Jimmy Nail at Grimsby Auditorium. In 2009 C'mon Everybody a rock and roll show at the Majestic Theatre Retford. In 2001 Alfie at the Caxton Theatre Grimsby. In 2006 Ladysmith Black Mambazo at Hull City Hall. In 2005 Girls Aloud and Darius at Lincoln Castle. A 2011 the stage version of Corrie at the Liverpool Empire. In 2009 Dreamboats and Petticoats at the Peacocks Theatre Woking.  

I still have this programme from a show I saw at Blackpool in 1968, not long after I moved there. I was free to start living the good life. I had a flat and a job, and a boyfriend. Time to rub shoulders with the stars. Englebert Humperdink, Les Dawson, Lonnie Donegan, Mike Yarwood and many more.  

Those were the days, eh! A few years ago I enjoyed going to stand up comedy nights in clubs and pubs. I can't do that now because I am almost deaf in my left ear, and I think my right ear isn't so sharp. My outlook on life has changed as well. I don't feel the need to be part of an audience. I have a few nice friends. Wide open spaces are what gives me pleasure now. As long as I can get out I am happy.

Thanks for popping in. We'll catch up soon. Toodle pip.    ilona

My posh frock

Oh Lordy, it was a bit late when I took this one out of the oven last night. I had to leave the computer on to let yoootooob do it's stuff, and go to bed. I woke at 2.30 am to use the bathroom, aka have a pee, and went downstairs to check on it. Yep, finished. With a sleepy head I closed it down. I must try and keep the videos down to ten minutes or start uploading earlier. 

There will be a second post along shortly. It's check in day for the International Walking Group. Only one more month left to go. Catch ya later. Toodle pip.   ilona

We will remember them.

A service was held this morning on the Village Green. Poppy wreaths were placed around the memorial. I walked past it a bit later, on my way out to go for a walk. The wind had blown some of them about. I tidied it up and read the labels. One of them said, Remembering my Dad, who lies in a field in Normandy. That made me cry.  

As I was walking along those words were stuck in my head. I thought about all the other dads, sons, grandsons, and brothers who never made it home. 

Walking gives me thinking time. How did we get to the point where evil people are pushing to change the world. As I headed towards retirement, I never imagined that the last few years of my life I would be trying to keep hold of the freedoms we have lived with for most of our lives. Freedoms that our fathers fought for. 

In my heart I am crying for the soldiers who lost their lives for us. 

We owe it to them not to give up. 

As the sun goes down, we will remember them. 

Have a good weekend. Lots of love.   ilona

Ten years ago

 It was ten years ago when I went to London, to Canary Wharf, to see my yacht. It was here for the Olympic Games. I found the yacht on the internet, it belongs to an Australian businessman. 

I sat on a bench watching the comings and goings of various people. Security was at the entrance monitoring people who went aboard. I asked if I could go inside and have a look around. It was to be expected that the answer was no. The crew member was very nice about it and chatted for a while. 

He came out to me ten minutes later, I was eating my sandwiches. He handed me a teeshirt and some other souvenirs, writing paper and note pad. I was over the moon with this kind gesture. So excited. In ten years I have worn this twice, not wanting to get it dirty or spoilt. I will treasure this forever. Picture on the back, pocket on the front. 

I have just checked where my yacht is now, on Marine Traffic. It is in port at Vilanova in Spain, a few miles south of Barcelona. There is limited information on this site. To get more details you have to subscribe.

More pictures on the blog post of my visit ten years ago. 

Time flies. The end is looming, best get on with some living then. Thanks for popping in. Enjoy your weekend. Toodle pip.   ilona