A trip down Memory Lane

Here's a mini-movie of our holiday house in St Bees in 1979. It's the last one in the terrace. I remember the steps and, I think, peeling the potatoes at the bottom of them as well as the view over towards the golf course. My (frighteningly nerdy) holidiary came in handy for finding the location. Reading through it (as Jenni did in a mocking voice down the pub on the first night) I reckon that St Bees was the last holiday we went on as a complete family. Beck joined us via train a few days in. It was also the holiday when we came home to find the freezer had switched off. Mum and Beck buried the stinking food in the garden.

St Bees is a peculiar village. It still has that depressed air of a former mining settlement and, despite its fabulous beach, seems reluctant to be considered a seaside destination. Most people come only to leave – on the Coast to Coast Walk (which was only six years old when we visited so probably wasn’t such a big thing). The kids dipped their boots in the water (below) as you’re supposed to mark the start of the walk – but we only went along the first few miles of the route around St Bees Head. The path continued inland and we proceeded to Whitehaven – exactly as we did in 1979.

The first sign of the town was what’s called The Candlestick (right) which was an air vent for the mine that’s design was thought to have been inspired by the favourite candlestick of the chap who owned most of the town. The last mine closed six years after our previous visit and Whitehaven has much improved since. I enjoyed the architecture trail (it has the greatest concentration of Georgian buildings in the UK, Beck) and we all walked around the harbour. The waterfront has been tastefully regenerated with a fancy wave sculpture, for instance, but the ‘gold for cash’ stores (a couple of bar stools at a counter in an otherwise empty former shop) on the High Street seem better to meet the needs of the locals.

Curiously and fittingly (considering where the rest of you lot were) Whitehaven has three connections with the US: George Washington’s granddad is buried there; the expansion of New York City was modelled on Whitehaven’s street grid layout and the town was the site of the only attack by the US on the UK (by a seaman trained in the town, pictured left, in 1778).

We planned to catch the train back to St Bees but went in the wrong direction. I had a tizzy, we got off at the first station and took a taxi from Whitehaven home, a slightly unsettling experience given the reputation of taxi drivers in these parts. We’d spotted the infamous taxi rank earlier.

Finally, here’s another mini-movie memory: showing the railway line near our holiday cottage where we used to place coins then return in the morning to see them flattened. When we weren’t doing that we were finding lost balls on the golf course. Happy days.

(By the way, you can view all the pics at full size by clicking on them).

Suffolk round-up

Whenever we're together the Dadisms involuntarily flow. Here's a round-up of some that Beck and I found ourselves saying in Suffolk.

- Referring to people not by name but by the relation they are to the person you're talking to. For instance: "Can you pass that to your auntie?"

- Dolly bird. [Come to think of it have we had "nice pair of nylons" yet?]

- "I'll try a glass of beer, wine, or whatever". As if you're going to try it and reject it.

- Pipe down [we may have had that one before].

- "Now you're talking!" Usually said, for instance, when cream is presented to accompany an otherwise uninspiring dessert [not that Mum produced any of those, of course]. I came out with this when Beck suggested egg mayo as the sandwich filling.

- "Can I wipe down the tops with a hot, soapy cloth?" The most important and rhetorical post-prandial gambit - usually followed by an over-zealous, swirling wipe of every surface in sight with sufficient pressure to remove the design from the table mats.

- "Looking after" - in the context of, for instance, "have you looked after the driver?". In other words this is an instruction to provide someone with service that their endeavour barely merits.

- "Worried about". Used to describe something that you have an interest in rather than something of genuine concern.

Pic of the day: Here's Beck with a Pig - at the Black Country open air museum, I think. One of my favourites of Sissy.

Pencil sharpening

While building Aidan's tree house earlier this week, I used a pencil for the first time in ages when marking the wood, and sharpened it using a Stanley knife rather than a pencil sharpener. I recall Dad's preference for a pencil and how they were all sharpened to perfecting with his pen knife.

Another sporty one

Last night at Cubs I was bowling in a game that's a sort of cross between dodgeball and rounders. "Spread the field, spread the field. We've got a big hitter here," I instructed, waving my arm behind me when one of the older lads stepped up to the crease. Which is what Dad used to say when we played cricket or rounders in the garden or beach.

Two more - and first radio clip

I have a feeling that I'm now blogging to about the same number of people as I broadcast to on hospital radio. Anyway, here are two more:

- "Can I make a suggestion?": usually asked when a suggestion is not required and will be summarily ignored anyway.

- "What time is it on your watch?": as if it would be significantly different if the time was read on anyone else's watch.

Radio clip of the day: Let's go back to 1985. We're on the Radio 1 breakfast show and Mike Read is about to reveal all (well, a bit, anyway) about Paul and John's love lives ...

Grannie Easter special

Here are two that Mum came out with while having a pub lunch on Saturday. I record them on her behalf:

"Does anyone mind if I don't talk for a while?" - said when a meal arrives after a long wait and usually followed by sarcastic: "Oh, yes, we do!"s.

"Complete amateurs" - Dad's verdict on any agricultural personages participating in TV programmes, as actors or professionals.

Letter of the Day: Mum was a prolific letter writing during my university days. Here she is in 1983 talking about Beck and Mitch, Grannie's old fur coat, John's fireworks party and Adam's efforts in the back passage (ooh-err, missus) among other things. Click on the first page to take you to a folder where you can read them all:

Stage connection

Here's a couple I've found myself saying recently:

"Untouched by human hand!" - said proudly when actually to touch the object in question with your hands wouldn't matter at all.

"Come here, you wee bugger!" - said to entice a ball from under a rather low bush often while thrashing at it furiously with a tennis racquet. I came out with this one involuntarily during a game of soccer in the garden with Bertie.

Pic of the day: We've had TV footage, archive audio and letters - and now it's time for the medium of the stage. We went to see Goodnight Mister Tom (a WW2 evacuee drama) in Leeds last weekend. When reading the reviews afterwards I saw this pic of Mr Tom. His quizzical expression in particular reminds me of Pa.