| | Homelife membories - 1925 - 1934 | There is 1 message in this section. |
Elizabeth Harper from Lochanbriggs, Dumfries. Posted 4 May 2005.
My first recollection was when I was five years old and we moved from Gatehouse to Sunny Brae, Kirkmahoe in 1925. Our new abode was a room and kitchen with a five yards width space running from the back door the length of the kitchen and bedroom which held coal, sticks, water pail and slop pail. The water was across the road. Here were nine of us there but two youngest born at Sunny Brae later, making eleven children plus my mother and father. The kitchen held a double bed (my parents) with big brass balls adorning the four corners. Pure white bed spread with lace valance and lace curtains at the window. Everything laundered and starched often. A meal ark when opened was divided in two ? one side for flour and the other the oatmeal with shelf running round inside for salt, cream of tartar, baking soad, etc. for bakind. A brass and steel fender, which was polished every Friday and then covered with newspaper, which stayed on until Sunday when it was removed. Our fireplace was a big open range, which burned about half a hundredweight of coal at a time, a big black sway across the fire to hold pots and pans. A huge iron kettle sat simmering on the hob.
Friday was baking day and as my mother was a great baker, all sort of scones were made on the girdle and a big black iron pot with lid was hung on the sway and a shovel of hot coals from the fire placed on the lid, making an oven. Lovely tarts and bannocks baked in this way. My father always made the oatcakes and after baking on the girdle a trivet was hooked onto bars of the fire and the farls of oatcakes were finished off this way, hence the lovely curly oatcakes. My father then put them in a large farm basket, with a white cover and covered up with same, then hung on a large hook in the ceiling.
There were several hooks on the ceiling, supposedly for hams and sides of bacon after curing but unfortunately we didn?t have any (too poor). Our kitchen floor was sandstone flags, covered in rag rugs. This floor was scrubbed every Saturday. When we did afford to buy linoleum, it didn?t last as the flagstones were not level. The bedroom had two iron double beds, one for the girls and one for the boys. It wasn?t too bad as the older ones were out working, unless there was a wedding of one of us, then we had to lie across the bed instead of up and down.
How we didn?t get frost bite on the toes I will never know as our feet stuck out and were forever cold. I?m jumping the gun a bit now! Really, it was my own wedding day and was told that my sister-in-law, who was a townie, went to kindle the fire next morning but couldn?t get it to burn and no wonder. It was my late father?s dahilia tubers that my mother overwintered every year which she used as kindlers. Her hubby came to the rescue but the tubers were burned black.
One of my earliest memories was of mother on one side of the fireplace and my father on the other making rag rugs and us kids clipping clouts the size required and handing them over. Our floor was covered in rag rugs but dirty things to shake outside every morning. Our front door had a huge step with a curling stone at each end. It was scrubbed every Saturday and whirls of every shape made round the border with white stookie.
My mother used the big iron pot over the fire to boil the whites and at blanket time we used to take off clogs and socks and tramp the blankets in a huge tub outside (happy memories).
The boys had to gather wood for kindlers from a wood across the road which was handy. The girls and to do the dishes and scrub floors and steps. The front garden grew potatoes but mostly flowers, but we had another vegetable garden 200 yards up the road. That spaces taken up by the garden belonging to an upstairs neighbour.
Our dry lavvy was here and huge fruit tree was overhanging it. What big juicy damsons (still going strong and bearing fruit a few years back). Father used to empty the lavvy bucket every Saturday in the back garden. What beautiful veg and rhubarb we had. No wonder when it was well manured every week!
Our footwear was mostly clogs. Father didn?t mind our cackers coming off but woe betide any of us who didn?t bring them home (the cakers I mean). My father sat on his hunkers on the floor, last between his legs, spent matches in his mouth (they went in before the nails) Mostly bare-foot in summer and used to burst the tar blisters with our toes. Lovely feeling but not when my mother caught us using her margarine to lift the tar) Money was scarce. No Margarine for tar on our feet.
There was a pond half a mile from the house, down the road past the old mill wheel and there it was in the middle of a field. This day we were all playing at the pond. I had a pair of red knickers on. In those days the colours were navy, red and bottle green for knickers for working class. My brother Sandy pushed me into the pond. I came out soaking wet and red running down my legs. I thought I was bleeding to death, as I was highly strung. I ran, screaming home. It turned out it was the red dye from the knickers. What a relief, but Sandy got a tongue lashing which I was sorry for.
|
