I wish my mum was here, she would know. One of her friends live in Hackney. I don’t remember the tribal costume, I do remember an onion seller dressed like the Frenchman, striped pullover and onions hanging off his bike.
Gardening on the wild, windy west side of Dartmoor.
Pollecoffs, my nan worked for them, I think that was in Bangor. They are not there now but still have a clothes shop in Pwllheli. I had no idea it was a London firm, I have always associated Pollecoffs with North Wales.
Until his death at Monte Cassino in 1944 we have all the war time letters written by my wife’s uncle to his sister - my mother in law - and his parents. They are now bound in a leather book entitled ‘Dear Folks’, the salutation he used on all the letters.
I have my father's wooden garden sieve, a small hammer and his old pipe. Also my mother's and grandmother's rings, a pair of long cream real kid evening gloves with tiny pearl buttons right up the inside and the glove stretchers in their own box. Lots of china, including Wedgwood, grapefruit glasses and sliver spoons. Edited to say I don't actually use the pipe!
I forgot to mention my pure cotton sheets, on some of which the laundry mark in indelible ink is still legible: D. Gray, 19 Stapleton Street, Salford; my Auntie Dora, who died in 1948.
Ive got all my grandads world war 1 papers, I found two birth certificates for him, don’t know how that happened. The first one had his name as everyone knew him by, the second one had the middle name French.
Gardening on the wild, windy west side of Dartmoor.
Mum's electric sewing machine as well as furniture, ornaments - I don't think there's a lamp in this house that we actually bought. Cutlery, cookery and gardening books, a few old photograph books and a couple of childrens' story books. Coats that belonged to both my parents and that still have plenty of wear in them. And every painting on the walls was by either my mother or one of her sisters.
Gardening on the edge of Exmoor, in Devon
“It's still magic even if you know how it's done.”
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I don’t remember the tribal costume, I do remember an onion seller dressed like the Frenchman, striped pullover and onions hanging off his bike.
“It's still magic even if you know how it's done.”