Tag Archives: family life

Rodin’s the Thinker: or was it called the dreamer

Back in the mid to late 50s, our teachers only addressed us children by our surnames or more usually as ‘You boy’, or, ‘You Girl’. I’m afraid on many occasions I was told “You boy, pay attention and stop your … Continue reading

Posted in Autobiography | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

1951 – Cherry Pie

Replete with dinner, just eaten Mum brought a golden pie in from the kitchen The jug of custard quickly followed, “Be careful, the cherries have stones Just leave them round the side of your dish”. Soon after we, three boys, … Continue reading

Posted in Autobiography, Poetry | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Yes- That’s my wife

The police came to my front door last night holding a picture of my wife. They said, “Is this your wife, sir?” Shocked, I answered, ” Yes.” They said, “I’m afraid it looks like she’s been hit by a bus.” … Continue reading

Posted in Humour | Tagged | 1 Comment

Sit wide eyed in wonder

It’s Christmas, kids all over the land call out As soon as morning awakens them The little ones still believe; Perhaps older ones aren’t now quite so sure. Noise of excited children as presents Wrapped so gently in previous weeks … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

A lad who had to grow up fast

Fred Rouse, was a typical Cockney lad. Stroppy at times, a lean, tall, gangling boy. He and my older brother became good friends when they both started senior school together, Queens Head Street School, Islington aged eleven. Over the next … Continue reading

Posted in Autobiography, housing, School | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Halcyon Days

Most Sundays, Mum would cook lunch, we called it dinner She spent hours perfecting it I would stand by her side and marvel How such pleasure was choreographed. No fancy measures, no stress She would explain, “Yorkshire pudding” must be … Continue reading

Posted in Autobiography, Poetry | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

How wonderful were my early days

Mid 1940s to 1953 I lived at 59 Gibson Square in Islington. Each month the rent collector Mr Beetle (yes, really), would arrive on the doorstep to inspect the property and collect the rent. The rent not only Mum and Dad paid, … Continue reading

Posted in Autobiography, Economics, housing | Tagged , , , , , , | 1 Comment