This morning’s dominant bird calls at The Firs were of wood pigeons; those without a mate crying ‘uni-ted’, and those happily paired off ‘take two cows taffy, take two cows’. I worked on tidying the bed inside the concrete ring and digging over a bed outlined earlier in the year.
The combination of gardening, my mother, and my sisters got us reminiscing about the garden we grew up with in Stanton Road. This was a very small, bare, patch which went with our rented maisonette. I don’t remember much growing there at all except for the Browns’ plum tree suckers and incessant convulvulus. These permanently invaded our garden and it was my job periodically to have a blitz on them. Elizabeth does remember some plants I successfully grew.
Mr. and Mrs. Brown lived next door. In sixteen years I don’t remember ever having seen either of them. I think there was a disability involved. Mr. Brown made Elizabeth a doll called Minnehaha. It was the Browns’ television, I believe, which was responsible for my teenage fantasies. No, not those fantasies. In those twilight moments between being awake and asleep, I would hear the three discordant notes which Mum said were coming from their television. I believe it was a closing down signal. This led me into thinking how wonderful it would be if you could have a picture frame on your wall and a gadget that could tune in to and display in this any of the films currently being shown on any of the four cinemas Wimbledon then boasted. We didn’t have a television and the only one I had ever seen was a small wooden cabinet bearing a postage stamp sized screen. This was for the occasion of the coronation in 1953 when those of us at school who didn’t have a television were billeted with those who did. Being a tall lad I was seated at the back from whence I peered at a tiny black and white haze. Little did I imagine, in that teenage dream world, what my grandchildren can now hold in the palms of their hands.
Elizabeth and I took time out to visit the current exhibition of her artist friend Hilda Margery Clarke, where we also met another local artist, Susan Anderson, and had a good chat. As I have mentioned before, Margery was a tutee and close friend of L. S. Lowry, as is evident in some of her work. This collection was a fascinating forty year retrospective.
Jacqueline brought Mum up to join us for the evening meal. My niece Danni and her boyfriend Andy had also arrived earlier. This naturally led to the usual reminiscing, some of which may find its way into future posts.
The journey back was through gorgeous early summer evening light, bringing everything into sharp focus and casting long shadows across the fields.