Preparedness for when

GreyQueen

ALIBOBSY wrote: »

BTW anyone watch the programme on BBC 4 last night. Called something like secret histories-britains oldest family businesses.

Sort of a cross between who do you think you are and a history programme.

Last night was a butchers shop, I can't believe it never occurred to me that prior to fridges the way to keep the meat fresh was to transport it right to the market stall "on hoof" and slaughter/butcher them right there in the middle of the street.

Ali x

It's one of those things which is Duh, of course! when you think about it, isn't it? Lots of places have somewhere called The Cattlemarket in town. I read somewhere that Charing Cross is derived from "shearing cross" and is where sheep would have been traded. Or shorn. Or something -BBQ'd possibly?

There are still traces of old drove roads across country here and there, where cattle and flocks of sheep would have been driven many miles to market. I'm sure cattle/ sheep used to be driven from Wales to London to market.

Geese were also driven to market, sometimes with their feet dipped in hot wax then in sand to give them a sort-of shoe. Not very pleasant for them, I bet.

When you don't have the energy slaves represented by oil at lot of things have to be done by human power and there are many jobs for getting stuff from where it was produced to where it was to be consumed; drovers, pack trains (esp wool), barges, carters etc etc.

My Dad's home village had a combined butcher's shop/ small slaughterhouse. The old word for a slaughterhouse was "a shambles" and you'll sometimes see that hanging on as a remnant place name.

Here's a tired old country joke for yer; wooden sign on a field gate; Entrance Free (The Bull will Charge Later).

An oldie but a goodie.

jk0

I don't know if you guys are interested in American history, but I just came across an interesting website regarding the 1933 gold confiscation.

http://www.moonlightmint.com/bailout.htm

There is also a link to an MP3 of a speech FDR made shortly after that just before gold was revalued to $35 an ounce.

I can almost imagine Obama speaking the same words today.

Frugalsod

Bigjenny wrote: »

YS yellow stickers or whoopsies, reduced items.

My favourite place in the supermarket. My first port of call when I get into a store.

Goldiegirl

ALIBOBSY wrote: »

BTW anyone watch the programme on BBC 4 last night. Called something like secret histories-britains oldest family businesses.

Sort of a cross between who do you think you are and a history programme.

Last night was a butchers shop, I can't believe it never occurred to me that prior to fridges the way to keep the meat fresh was to transport it right to the market stall "on hoof" and slaughter/butcher them right there in the middle of the street.

Ali x

I'm going to watch that on iPlayer.

One of my great great grandfathers was a cattle dealer in East London, and also had a business address at Smithfield

ALIBOBSY

GreyQueen wrote: »

It's one of those things which is Duh, of course! when you think about it, isn't it? Lots of places have somewhere called The Cattlemarket in town. I read somewhere that Charing Cross is derived from "shearing cross" and is where sheep would have been traded. Or shorn. Or something -BBQ'd possibly?

There are still traces of old drove roads across country here and there, where cattle and flocks of sheep would have been driven many miles to market. I'm sure cattle/ sheep used to be driven from Wales to London to market.

Geese were also driven to market, sometimes with their feet dipped in hot wax then in sand to give them a sort-of shoe. Not very pleasant for them, I bet.

When you don't have the energy slaves represented by oil at lot of things have to be done by human power and there are many jobs for getting stuff from where it was produced to where it was to be consumed; drovers, pack trains (esp wool), barges, carters etc etc.

My Dad's home village had a combined butcher's shop/ small slaughterhouse. The old word for a slaughterhouse was "a shambles" and you'll sometimes see that hanging on as a remnant place name.

Here's a tired old country joke for yer; wooden sign on a field gate; Entrance Free (The Bull will Charge Later).

An oldie but a goodie.

:rotfl:, they mentioned "the shambles" in the program as well as pointing out how older streets in these areas (what are left of them) often have wider gutters to catch the blood-nice .

I suppose this is why so many people who had any kind of garden would try to keep at least chickens and I'd bet pretty much all country folk would dispatch their own "dinners" on a regular basis.

Ali x

thriftwizard

...many people who had any kind of garden would try to keep at least chickens and I'd bet pretty much all country folk would dispatch their own "dinners" on a regular basis.

Many years ago, my aunt was mortified, on the day that she became an Registered Nurse, when Matron came bustling in and said, "There's a dreadful old tramp plucking a chicken on the steps of the hospital - someone get rid of him!" She knew, before she even looked, it was her father, my Grandpa. He was a vicar in the East End (Hoxton) and had walked to over St. Thomas's via Borough Market, where he'd spotted a good-size live chook for sale. He bought it, "necked" it and sat down on the hospital steps to pluck it (best done whilst the bird's still warm) whilst waiting for her "passing out parade" oblivious to the horror he was causing the city dwellers… He also used to raise a pig every year in the shed, in Hoxton. Luckily they found him a parish in rural Kent soon afterwards where he could live the life a Westcountry boy was used to, until he semi-retired to a quiet Cornish parish!

Our elderly neighbour often reminisces about the days when he had 400 chickens in his back yard. And people think we're odd, with 10.

Hollyberry

Maybe it's because I am self-employed, so shop at odd times, but it has just occurred to me that I have never seen a child in our local Waitrose (city suburb). Not even at weekends. How bizarre! In ours the whoopsie section is stocked all day, and rarely seems to have anyone browsing it...perhaps they're all ashamed, and I'm the only one with no fear. Anyway, fruit and veg are often really cheap there, and also pasta and ready meals. For some strange reason they had about half a Spanish pig there on Monday, masquerading as pata negra, or whatever that very expensive ham is called. So great for the odd gourmet surprise too!

I've lost the plot on whoever coined the term Armageddon Cupboard, but that was a stroke of genius. :cool: Every home should have one...and here, on this thread, we do.

Kittikins

I call mine the Quartermaster's Stores, but thankfully no rats in there

Karmacat

Kittikins wrote: »

I call mine the Quartermaster's Stores, but thankfully no rats in there

**waves at Kittikins**


Armageddon Cupboard! I like that

GreyQueen

thriftwizard wrote: »

Many years ago, my aunt was mortified, on the day that she became an Registered Nurse, when Matron came bustling in and said, "There's a dreadful old tramp plucking a chicken on the steps of the hospital - someone get rid of him!" She knew, before she even looked, it was her father, my Grandpa. He was a vicar in the East End (Hoxton) and had walked to over St. Thomas's via Borough Market, where he'd spotted a good-size live chook for sale. He bought it, "necked" it and sat down on the hospital steps to pluck it (best done whilst the bird's still warm) whilst waiting for her "passing out parade" oblivious to the horror he was causing the city dwellers… He also used to raise a pig every year in the shed, in Hoxton. Luckily they found him a parish in rural Kent soon afterwards where he could live the life a Westcountry boy was used to, until he semi-retired to a quiet Cornish parish!.

Small world, isn't it? Mum's people are from Hemyock in Devon (anyone who can tell me how that's pronounced pls?), were in Bridgewater in Somerset by 1841 according to the Census, then the son moved up to - wait for it - Hoxton New Town!

Or as the Lunnon branch of the fam-lee say 'Oxton. They're still rattling around the East End a century and a half later. Mum was deported to the countryside as a young girl and lost her accent on the way. As Aunt Dolly, the clan matriarch said to Mum twenty years ago when the family gathered "you were well aht of it."

I think Hoxton is on the up, popular with the fashionable crowd?

I'm toying with the idea of renting a car sometime next summer and going to look at the old places in Somerset/ Devon.