The house I lived in for the first eighteen year was a front section built in 1850's on to a much older cottage being on three levels, Mothers front sitting room, carpets and furnished with an open fire in a fantastic tiled fire place, up some steps to the living room complete with huge metal stove come fire which had two ovens a water boiler and various rings and chains for cooking appliances. Then through to kitchen and wash house complete with water boiling stove. and a gas oven then out to stables and a large walled garden. Three bedrooms upstairs with a very high passage to my bedroom where sides of bacon and hams hung curing. In our house cut yourself a slice of porridge meant exactly that. The big cast pot had been hung over the fire (it never went out just damped down) the pot full of oats and water cooked over night and you literally cut a slice mixed in the treacle and milk to your liking and ate, the rest of breakfast was bacon eggs in season our own hens tomato or mushrooms in season and of course fried bread, if you believe the diet faddists I should have died years ago.
Problem Dad got me a Piano it would not go anywhere but the Front Sitting Room and that meant I had to go in there every day to practice. Hot weather I would throw the window open and a row of heads appeared as it was straight out onto the Mill lane, come on Sonna we want to play cricket Mother shooing them back out of Her Room. Four of us lived in that house and at no time did I ever think others lived a different way. Our Village was ideal though there were plenty of two up two down no bathroom single cold water tap and as many as ten living in some, and there we were with a Front Sitting Room.
Lantana, How about T'lampton worm, Cushy Butterfield, Keep yer feet still Geordie Hinney and the Keel Row. They were all sung with gusto once I started them off, a German and Welshman arms around each other singing "she's a big lass and a Bonny lass and she likes err beer they call's her Cushy Butterfield and I wish she were eer," would have us curled up laughing.
Exactly, blakeys on your shoes, or dad sticking an extra sole on them.hand me down clothes that you had to wear whether they fitted you or not. Bread and sugar for tea, mind you, did you ever see a fat kid in those days.
My mum used to say, ' don't talk to me about good ole days, cos I can't see anything good about those times.'
Gardening on the wild, windy west side of Dartmoor.
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Our sitting room was the front room even though it was at the back of the house
The house I lived in for the first eighteen year was a front section built in 1850's on to a much older cottage being on three levels, Mothers front sitting room, carpets and furnished with an open fire in a fantastic tiled fire place, up some steps to the living room complete with huge metal stove come fire which had two ovens a water boiler and various rings and chains for cooking appliances. Then through to kitchen and wash house complete with water boiling stove. and a gas oven then out to stables and a large walled garden. Three bedrooms upstairs with a very high passage to my bedroom where sides of bacon and hams hung curing. In our house cut yourself a slice of porridge meant exactly that. The big cast pot had been hung over the fire (it never went out just damped down) the pot full of oats and water cooked over night and you literally cut a slice mixed in the treacle and milk to your liking and ate, the rest of breakfast was bacon eggs in season our own hens tomato or mushrooms in season and of course fried bread, if you believe the diet faddists I should have died years ago.
Problem Dad got me a Piano it would not go anywhere but the Front Sitting Room and that meant I had to go in there every day to practice. Hot weather I would throw the window open and a row of heads appeared as it was straight out onto the Mill lane, come on Sonna we want to play cricket Mother shooing them back out of Her Room. Four of us lived in that house and at no time did I ever think others lived a different way. Our Village was ideal though there were plenty of two up two down no bathroom single cold water tap and as many as ten living in some, and there we were with a Front Sitting Room.
Frank.
Lantana, How about T'lampton worm, Cushy Butterfield, Keep yer feet still Geordie Hinney and the Keel Row. They were all sung with gusto once I started them off, a German and Welshman arms around each other singing "she's a big lass and a Bonny lass and she likes err beer they call's her Cushy Butterfield and I wish she were eer," would have us curled up laughing.
Frank.
I even bear to watch someone drinking hot milk. I squirm while I wait for them to lick the skin off their lips .yuk
Exactly, blakeys on your shoes, or dad sticking an extra sole on them.hand me down clothes that you had to wear whether they fitted you or not. Bread and sugar for tea, mind you, did you ever see a fat kid in those days.
My mum used to say, ' don't talk to me about good ole days, cos I can't see anything good about those times.'
The skin off hot milk goes to the dog! No squirming necessary.
And another thing....
It needs pruning. NO IT DOESN'T!!!
It needs to be pruned.