Little Memories - Speak a 1000 Words

Little Memories - Speak a 1000 Words

And 

Paint a 1000 Pictures

My Sister love Mint Sauce and Roast Lamb

My Sister used to make real Mint Sauce in the Big White House - Felpham - picking mint from the Garden Patch she loved.

My Father affectionately called my Mother (Dorothy) - "Dorf"

My Mother was called Mumsie by my Sister and I - and even Coochie Face when we were being silly. 

My Parents didn't like Mum & Dad as names - they thought it was 'common'. They prefered Mother & Father. As my Sister & I got older we turned this on them - Mumsie & Pops.

My parents were sticklers for table manners and saying 'please' & 'thank you'.  

Speaking correctly was 'important'. "David - its not 'Ta' - that is something you find on the road - - its 'thankyou'".

My Father had a rather eccentric sense of humour - no doubt a reflection of his time at sea. These are known as Grandad Vignettes.

Grandad Vignette - "At the sign of the swinging polony, lives a slant eyed chinese maiden, by the name of Hoo Flug Shit" 

My Sister once dated one of the B Gees!

Grandad Vignette - I had a hellava time stuffing the Chicken - Damn thing wouldn't hold still (when your 7 you believe this.... LOL)

My Father Chain Smoked - but used a Cigarette Holder - for style.

My Mother always wore her hair in a 1940s style until the day she died.

My Father was a vain man - he insisted (when sufficiently well off) on nothing less than Savile Row Suites - seriously!

Grandad Vignette - "It took me all morning to shave these Gooseberries"

My Parents took me to Restaurants - by the age of 18 I was (for the time) a comparative food sophisticate. 

I use to massage my my Mothers feet - she loved it....

  Mt Father always stood when a women entered the room.

We always said "Grace" at the Table

In the South Road House there was an old 78 RPM Record Player with a collection of records - His Master Voice - I spent hours winding it up and listening to OLD OLD music....

On the Hyde Park end of Mount Street, where I walked every day to St Georges Juniors - there was a Police Box

The National Geographic Magazine taught me that I was NOT a racist at the age of 8 years (Albion Gate) 

My Mother had a passion for Classical Music and Walnut Whips.

My Sister read to me devotedly. I was 8-12 Years Old - and she read the entire Narnia Chronicles to me. Book by book, chapter by chapter, page by page, word by word - week after week, month after month. I sat at her knee, day after day, week after week, entranced - captivated. She gave voice and character, she lived out the stories for me, she acted them out for me - she performed as this is what she loved doing. And I fell in love with Narnia, and fell further in love with my Sister. When I lay in bed and drifted off to sleep, it was Sue's Narnia enchantment that captivated and moulded me.

After all Narnia looks for the best in all of us - through Magic. 

My Father had a lifelong aversion to Rice Pudding - having been forced to eat it as an Orphaned child.

I loved making Airfix models on dreary winter Sunday afternoons in the downstairs flat in Berkeley Square House - whilst my parents dozed in front of the TV.

My Mother was VERY keen on a Gin and Tonic and the occasional Sherry. My Father was overly fond of Whisky and Soda. 

My Father ALWAYS stood up when a woman entered the room. 

My Sister was particularly fond of Draft Guinness and Dunhill cigarettes.

My Sister was the FIRST FEMALE Secretary of a Rugby Club in Wales. At her Funeral the Welsh Rugby Union sent representatives.

My Sister was a talented artist and painter.

My Mother always told me to be nice to the "Little People". Although she was a terrible snob - it was great advice. I have always been nice to everyone in a team regardless of their rank or designation. 

My Father suffered from Gout - he referred to this as his "Hot Toe".

As a young teenager (13-14) I was a bit of a nerd - a little overweight, and into science. I use to do Chemistry experiments in my bedroom in the Downstairs Flat at Berkeley Square.

As a boy I loved Model Train Sets. I had train sets lay outs in both the Grosvenor Square flat and the Downstairs Berkeley Square flat.

In 1965 I watched Winston Churchill's Funeral on a Black and White TV with my Mother and Father

In my mid teens, when we lived in Berkeley Square House, my fathers boss provided us regularly with tickets to his personal Box to events at the Royal Albert Hall. It was here that I would watch, listen to and learn to love a spectrum of classical music. The Box (facing stage) was 3rd on the Left First Floor. We often saw Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture - my Father loved the real cannons in the Great Halls Eves.  

Brentford Sunrise! When I worked for Beecham Products as a Laboratory Technician we used to clean the lab benches with 68% overproof Ethanol. One day we ran some tests on this and found it to be pure Ethanol (alcohol) that was not denatured or tainted with Benzene. It was in short "drinkable". Mixed with orange squash and Lucozade  (Beechams produced Lucozade) it became a cocktail known as "Brentford Sunrise" - ie you never saw the sunrise. We used to use this stuff for after hours in the Issac Newton Pub for after hours. * pint bottles were happily consumed by the local Police in St Johns Wood - and it became a legend......