General Chat

That is so lovely Ann..it so reminded me of when my dad died and a few months later my mum moved into a retirement flat...I cried buckets.

Along with the smells of cleaning, baking and cooking in our home was the smell of leather. My dad was a glove cutter and to make extra money he would work at home "on the side".

I can see him now stretching the leather, time after time, over the side of his work table in the sitting room and the huge shears he used for cutting the leather.

I cannot resist smelling anything made of real leather now when I am in shops...I don't half get funny glances from shop assistants though.

Very happy memories of my dad and home...

Linda x

Linda you should write that down and put it with your family history notes, I could almost smell the leather when I read it, such an evocative smell.

I wont drive past the bungalow now when we are in the area. We did once and the builder who had bought it had knocked the front wall down and bricked the front garden and had his vans parked there (no garage and on a main road now so no parking really, so can't blame him). But it wasn't my home, didn't look the same. However, I think he had a young family so hopefully it is still a happy family home.

Thank you for sharing, Ann.
Those are beautiful memories.

I can relate to so many of your thoughts.
It was a very sad day when we sold the family bungalow and I left for the last time. Mum and Dad had bought it new and struggled as newly-weds some 70 years previously, to build it into a wonderful home.
I have never been back to that road since, but have later met the man who bought it and have shared some of our happy memories with him.

Gwyn

Thank you Barry, a year or so ago I put my life story, chapter by chapter on here, not had that published either.

ann what a pleasure to read your childhood memories has made me cry and think of my own childhood and how lucky i was thankyou for sharing

You are welcome

Very evocative, Ann, and reminded me of bits of my childhood too. It was a sad day when we had to hand back the keys of the council house my parents lived in most of their married lives. It had been home for 45 years, we got it brand new with its huge garden when I was just over 2 and my brother was a few days old. My younger brother was born there in 1952.
After Mum died in 1995 and we emptied the house, I bumped into a woman I knew slightly having been her daughter's dinner lady at a nearby school, and seeing this woman working at a nursery when I dropped off one of my minded children. She told me she had at last been offered a different house, hers was to be pulled down. When she told me the name of the road, I asked was it no 68, how did I know she asked. I felt a little better knowing she would be living there with her three children, and she bought it a couple of years later, so it will probably always be their family house, for the foreseeable future anyway. She loved the front garden which I told her was Dad's pride and joy and full of flowers. When I saw her the following spring, she asked if I knew how many tulips were in there, she had counted and there were dozens, almost 100, altho I can't remember the exact number now. She and her family aren't gardeners so the front is a bit untidy now and the back altho huge is not cared for or used much except for the lawn near the house, but a neighbour who lived there when Mum did, looked after the garden for a long time for the woman until he moved into sheltered accommodation. It's nice to think that our dog and my cats are undisturbed in their resting place.

Lizx

I dread to think what the garden in my family home is like now, both parents were good gardeners, Mum loved her flower beds and roses and in fact was digging the garden aged 85 the day before she dies, she was never happier than when able to sit out on her lawn with a cup of tea (teapot, cup and saucer and milk jug and sugar bowl all on the tray, garden or not standards didn't slip.

Ann