Ask yer Granny!

mardatha

We had a caravan with gas lights. Those bloody mantles did my head in because I kept dropping them. Nice soft lighting though.
Nannygladys, I have all my life felt like I'm 12 :rotfl::rotfl:

Winchelsea

Oh meritaten - THAT winter of 62/63!

My husband was in the RAF, and accomodation was in very short supply in the town, so we were living in an old caravan. We had a calor gas cylinder for cooking (and supposedly for lights, but they didn't work - had to use candles), a paraffin heater to keep us warm, and a standpipe outside for our water.

When the big freeze came, the tap froze, so had to go out with a bucket to collect snow, then heat it on the gas ring. As far as I remember it took 2 or 3 buckets of snow to get one kettle of water.
The gas cooker had two small gas burners - no oven, apart from a biscuit tin contraption that I could bake cakes and puddings in.

The gas cylinder started freezing, but we managed by wrapping it up well with an old blanket. Had to get empty cylinders to the petrol station to change them, also we bought paraffin there. Oh, and we had a chemical toilet in a little shack - that all froze up too!

At least that heater kept us toasty warm! And, do you know, I look back on a really happy time! The sky was brilliant blue, and the trees were thick with frost - so beautiful. (I was pregnant at the time as well! - though I miscarried at 16 weeks - maybe a result of our hard life at the time.) Went on to have 5 beautiful children, so all worked out well in the end.

suzybloo - my mother had tartan legs from the fire too!

BusyBeans - That underground seam must have contributed quite a bit to global warming! Worrying!

WeegieWumman

I remember my mother taking me to the Co-op grocers for the 'weekend messages' and we had the food ration books with us. The only jams they seemed to sell were Mixed Fruit and Apple Jelly. I loved syrup on my bread. Tea was delivered to the shop in tea chests, and like sugar, lentils, barley etc. the staff weighed and packed it into strong paper bags for the customers. A huge block of cheese sat on a marble counter and was cut and weighed as required.
I was the youngest child and was born just before the end of the war, but both my siblings had been evacuated to my granny in Northern Ireland. My father once told me I was such a tearaway that my birth immediately frightened Hitler into committing suicide.

RAS

Winchelsea wrote: »

Oh meritaten - THAT winter of 62/63!

I do not actually remember the cold but the snow! The upstairs windows were white but downstairs, they were actually covered by the drifting snow that first morning.

Dad had kept the access to the main road and part of that open; we never failed to get to school.

But the water (spring fed) froze for 6 weeks. He eventually found one spring that had not frozen from which we got part of a churn for drinking water each day. Other than that, mum melted snow.

That also meant no piped hot water. Everything had to be heated on the AGA.

We only had the AGA and one wood burning open fire anyway, apart from a parafin burner that just about lifted the temperature upstairs.

Tamster150

This is such a great thread!

My Nan was very anti-waste. In her fridge you would only ever find butter, lump of cheese, some bacon, sausages and maybe black pud and milk. She had one cupboard for food/grocery yet could always provide snacks & dinners for the hungry grandkids on their way home from school. (who then went home & ate again:embarasse) If someone was due to visit she would whip up some scones and soda bread - although they were always a bit "hit and miss" she never weighed anything just threw it all in the bowl. Although I should add most of her cooking was a bit "hit & miss":rotfl:

She was one of the youngest girls in the family, so never got taught how to cook (that job went to the older girls) Her job was to clean the fireplace & light the fire every morning & fetch the water with her brother from the well.

She went into service aged 12 in Ireland and then at 14 she was sent to work in a grand house in Bayswater. She was asked to pin a hankie to her coat so that the "lady of the house" could recognise her at the station, only they had no hankies & she had to cut up a pair of her undies.

Although she did her own repairs & alterations she was not very good at sewing or knitting. I remember my Mum & her Mum (my other Nan) trying to give her lessons (both very able craftswomen) over the years and my aunts tell stories of awful completely mishapen jumpers that she knitted and they were forced to wear.

It is a forgotten way of life,
however although times I hard atm, I dont see many of my peers/friends changing their habits, they are still resorting to credit cards & personal loans.

I wonder what my childrens' generation will be like when they are parents - maybe they will think the opposite to the "baby boomers" parents, "we had too much, I dont want my kids being spoilt like we were"
???????????????

mardatha

Everybody's mums had tartan legs then! And stood round the grocers van in their baffies. My mum was a terrible knitter too, and I still curl up at the memory of one cardi that was 2ft long and 4ft wide and that I had to wear for YEARS.
I remember every time you flitted it was with everything in tea chests.
My kids just think I'm odd. They wont copy me ever I dont think.

Rowan9

mardatha wrote: »

I remember every time you flitted it was with everything in tea chests.
QUOTE]

When I visited my sister in Norway a few years ago i saw a van and on the side was written flyttyn dor til dor. Near enough like that - ha - the language travels. I think hospital was seekhoosie (now, not spelt that way!)
Loving this thread and people's memories of their grannies.
W

ceridwen

Lost now...what is "flitted" please?

Winchelsea

And WHAT are baffies Mardatha?!

sproggi

ceridwen wrote: »

Lost now...what is "flitted" please?

Flitted = moved (house in this reference)

Winchelsea wrote: »

And WHAT are baffies Mardatha?!

Baffies = Slippers

I keep trying to work my way through this tread, but keep ending up in tears at the memories it stirs

Sproggi