Life at Home
My spare time - what there was of it - was fully occupied with Home Guard duties and digging and cropping the large garden at the farm. It made a world of difference being able to supplement the rations with a plentiful supply of fresh vegetables. I also discovered that father-in-law had a old twelve-bore shotgun. I cleaned it, bought some cartridges and went rabbit-hunting. There were plenty of rough fences in the marshes where the rabbits lay, and after a bit of 'Red Indian' stuff I could get within range without scaring the bunnies, and managed to knock a few over. If there is anything more delicious than a nice rabbit pie I have yet to discover it. This was all before myxomatosis, and was a tasty supplement to our meagre meat ration.
As I progressed with my shooting ability I got the odd pigeon, and better still - keep it quiet - an occasional pheasant. It was a source of wonder how the rations went round, but a lot of this was due to Vera's knack of concocting something from nothing.
Halfway through the war we found, to our delight, that a youngster was on the way. Preparations for the big event kept us both busy, as practically everything had to be made. So while Vera was busy with baby clothes, I spent all my spare time in my little workshop. It was midwinter so I had more time, and I made a footstool, a cot and a high chair. The pram was the worst problem. We studied the adverts, but the demand was high and the supply limited, and we always seemed to be too late. At last we decided to try Norwich and caught the old 'Waveney Valley Express'. We trailed around Norwich, with one or two air raid warnings thrown in for good measure, and we were lucky enough to find a store which had just one of the so-called utility prams left. it was a sort of spivved-up box with a hood, mounted on its chassis with four bicycle seat springs, but we were delighted.
The big day drew nearer, and a day or two in advance of the expected arrival we moved to my sister's-in-law. It was bitter weather with heavy snowfalls making travel difficult. The day arrived at last, and the midwife decided it was time to ring for the doctor. I set out to walk to the nearest phone-box to ring him. It was in the early hours of the morning, and imagine how I felt after ploughing through the snow to find the phone out of order. I was in a right old lather, thinking like I suppose most prospective fathers do, that it was a matter of life and death. There was nothing left but to walk into town for the doctor, so I slithered and slid the mile or so to the town to knock him up. He of course knew things were imminent, having seen Vera during the day. When we got back it was all over, but all was well and we were the proud parents of a baby boy!
The months rolled by and I made a natty little seat with leg guards to fix on the crossbar of my pushbike, and the three of us did many happy miles together. We used this until Roger, our son, grew so tall I couldn't see over his head. So I had to make another seat which fitted over the back wheel.
With ready-made toys virtually unobtainable, I was never at a loss for a job. I made wooden horses, rocking dogs, wagons, scooters and wheelbarrows. Having other nephews and nieces, I usually had to duplicate the toys to keep them happy, but in fact I got no end of pleasure making them. I remember in particular making a tricycle entirely out of wood. Even the front forks which swivelled for steering, and the cranks and pedals were all wood. I was lucky to be able to buy offcuts of wood, so the whole trike was made of teak, as strong as a house. When Roger got too big for it I sold it and it lasted for years.
One day I had a brainwave. I took a toy wheelbarrow I had made to a toy shop in the town, now alas almost empty. I got an order for as many as I could turn out, for seven and six each which was useful money for those days. I don't know how many I made - dozens of them. I eventually got cheesed off and couldn't look a wheelbarrow in the face, much to the dismay of the shopkeeper who was selling them like hot cakes. It was he who told me of an impending auction in the village where there was a proper metal tricycle for sale. I went to have a look, and found that in the same lot there were several other old toys in various states of disintegration. I bought the lot for a pound. A few weeks' spare time work with tools and paint brushes restored these to something like their original pristine brightness, and I made several pounds when I sold them.
As I progressed with my shooting ability I got the odd pigeon, and better still - keep it quiet - an occasional pheasant. It was a source of wonder how the rations went round, but a lot of this was due to Vera's knack of concocting something from nothing.
Halfway through the war we found, to our delight, that a youngster was on the way. Preparations for the big event kept us both busy, as practically everything had to be made. So while Vera was busy with baby clothes, I spent all my spare time in my little workshop. It was midwinter so I had more time, and I made a footstool, a cot and a high chair. The pram was the worst problem. We studied the adverts, but the demand was high and the supply limited, and we always seemed to be too late. At last we decided to try Norwich and caught the old 'Waveney Valley Express'. We trailed around Norwich, with one or two air raid warnings thrown in for good measure, and we were lucky enough to find a store which had just one of the so-called utility prams left. it was a sort of spivved-up box with a hood, mounted on its chassis with four bicycle seat springs, but we were delighted.
The big day drew nearer, and a day or two in advance of the expected arrival we moved to my sister's-in-law. It was bitter weather with heavy snowfalls making travel difficult. The day arrived at last, and the midwife decided it was time to ring for the doctor. I set out to walk to the nearest phone-box to ring him. It was in the early hours of the morning, and imagine how I felt after ploughing through the snow to find the phone out of order. I was in a right old lather, thinking like I suppose most prospective fathers do, that it was a matter of life and death. There was nothing left but to walk into town for the doctor, so I slithered and slid the mile or so to the town to knock him up. He of course knew things were imminent, having seen Vera during the day. When we got back it was all over, but all was well and we were the proud parents of a baby boy!
The months rolled by and I made a natty little seat with leg guards to fix on the crossbar of my pushbike, and the three of us did many happy miles together. We used this until Roger, our son, grew so tall I couldn't see over his head. So I had to make another seat which fitted over the back wheel.
With ready-made toys virtually unobtainable, I was never at a loss for a job. I made wooden horses, rocking dogs, wagons, scooters and wheelbarrows. Having other nephews and nieces, I usually had to duplicate the toys to keep them happy, but in fact I got no end of pleasure making them. I remember in particular making a tricycle entirely out of wood. Even the front forks which swivelled for steering, and the cranks and pedals were all wood. I was lucky to be able to buy offcuts of wood, so the whole trike was made of teak, as strong as a house. When Roger got too big for it I sold it and it lasted for years.
One day I had a brainwave. I took a toy wheelbarrow I had made to a toy shop in the town, now alas almost empty. I got an order for as many as I could turn out, for seven and six each which was useful money for those days. I don't know how many I made - dozens of them. I eventually got cheesed off and couldn't look a wheelbarrow in the face, much to the dismay of the shopkeeper who was selling them like hot cakes. It was he who told me of an impending auction in the village where there was a proper metal tricycle for sale. I went to have a look, and found that in the same lot there were several other old toys in various states of disintegration. I bought the lot for a pound. A few weeks' spare time work with tools and paint brushes restored these to something like their original pristine brightness, and I made several pounds when I sold them.
posted by curlybonce | 2:23 pm
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home