Oh Babs! where are you?
“Will you pop up to the shop for me Babs?”
I was fourteen, my mum had run out of something that she needed in order to cook our evening meal. The shop was about 200 yards up the road, and we constantly shopped there for items that mum had ‘run out of’ throughout the week. She did a main shop once a week but it was a mammoth task to shop for our large family. We always needed extras.
If it was a Sunday, depending what food item you asked for, the shop owner would wrap it in a brown paper bag and say “Don’t let anybody see what’s in the bag. I’m not allowed to sell it on a Sunday.” It was 1959 and the ‘corner shops’ were now allowed to open on Sundays, to sell essentials only. Certain foods were not allowed.
I need to set the scene here.
Our house had two front doors. One that you climbed a flight of steps to reach, and another that you went down a flight of steps to. The house had a semi basement which meant that the rooms were half underground and half above the ground. Windows looked out at ground level, which was very strange. While dad was decorating the rest of the rooms, we were living down in the lower part of the house. There was a small concrete area at the front with steep steps that led up to street level. Thanks to Google Maps, I’ve just found the actual house fifty years on.
“OK” I said. Mum handed me the money and I left the house. I loved to run places when I was young so I ran up the steps and along the road to the shop, oblivious to what was going on around me, as always. When I got back home this is what greeted me.
A lorry carrying huge lengths of timber had rounded the bend in the road, a bend that had seen lots of accidents, and would see many more. As it took the bend, probably too quickly, the safety straps gave under the weight and it shed it’s load, straight down the basement of our house. Poor mum and dad were standing, frantic on the top steps wondering if I had made it up the steps in time, or if I was underneath all the wood. Their relief showed as they saw me approaching the house. It seems that within moments of me leaving this had happened. Had I dawdled and not loved running so much I would no doubt have been underneath, and very squashed! I don’t remember how, or when I managed to get in the house, but I’m sure clearing the wood from our home would have been first on the agenda.
That was a close call. I don’t think my mum and dad could wait to move away from that dangerous road. Two years later we were gone from London completely.
Note: Have you noticed something that is in this post but has been sadly lacking in my posts of late? No prize for guessing I’m afraid. (I’ve reworded this as it seemed to cause confusion.)
Stumble it!
Subscribe by Email
Comedy Plus
| 2 February 2010 at 3:01
Yikes, what a scary story. I’m glad it turned out well though. All the big cities had homes like you described.
I don’t know what’s different, but it’s the end of the day for me and I’m very tired.
Have a terrific day.
Comedy Plus´s last blog ..Awww…Mondays #50
Jaffer
| 2 February 2010 at 4:16
Is that not your own doodle Babs ? Or are we missing a high quality photograph from you ?
You were lucky alright ! Did you move straight to York after that ?
My mother’s side of the family and one time had ‘14′ people living under one roof !
But my cousins didn’t have to run anywhere – My uncle was running a grain store already along with oil, and sugar and tea etc.
Today, there are only a total of 4 people living there.
JD at I Do Things
| 2 February 2010 at 15:53
I don’t know what’s missing. A doodle? But I figured you drew that picture of all the lumber . . . Hmmm.
Anyway, thank GOODNESS you missed that accident or where would you be today? Possibly still under all that wood. And I love that you found your old house on Google maps! Makes me want to do some investigating . . .
JD at I Do Things´s last blog ..I Blew the Nostril in Jamaica so you don’t have to
meleah rebeccah
| 2 February 2010 at 17:34
Holy Crap! Good thing you left the house exactly when you did and returned exactly when you did. Talk about the importance of TIMING!
Hm… I have no idea what could be missing from this post?
meleah rebeccah´s last blog ..Stepping Up To The Plate – And, Wherein I Am Awesome
beetle
| 2 February 2010 at 17:39
Sandee: It wasn’t scary for me. You know what young kids are like. But my mum & dad must have been horrified.
Jaffer: Yes it is my doodle. They have been missing of late, due to my computer breaking down. We moved to Kent from London and we all loved it. We moved to Yorkshire just 9 years ago.
JD: No, it’s not missing now. The lumber is one of my doodles. They were missing from my posts of late though. Get searching! I even found the house I was born in
Ruth
| 2 February 2010 at 18:17
Gorgeous doodle, gosh you’re good.
What a story! It reminds me of one where we just missed a terrible accident in Indiana because we stopped at a restaurant. The waitress didn’t come after 15 minutes, so we left. Up the road there was traffic backed up for miles from a deadly accident.
The photo reminds me of all those Georgian “houses” I’ve seen in period movies, and in person in Dublin and London. I love how they look.
Ruth´s last blog .."They’ve messed with the wrong one now!"
Michelle Gartner
| 3 February 2010 at 18:38
Wow- I thought perhaps you manipulated the previous picture in photoshop or something to get the doodle. I was impressed then, but even more impressed now.
Michelle Gartner´s last blog ..Hibernation
Maureen
| 3 February 2010 at 21:15
Wow, Babs, yes, good thing you ran everywhere!
Love the drawing; it must be great to have that ability back again!
Maureen´s last blog ..A Mosh Pit Of One
beetle
| 4 February 2010 at 2:47
Ruth: Timing was everything in both situations. I do think those houses were grand in their day, but we didn’t like living on a main road much. The house had seen better days when we lived there. I can’t imagine what it’s like fifty years on.
Michelle: Thanks. I missed being able to do my drawings when I lost my software.
Maureen: Oh how I wish I was able to run now! Yes, I am thrilled to have my software back
Kathy
| 4 February 2010 at 14:44
Scarieeeee! That was a close call and I hate to think what might have become of you had you been at the wrong place at the wrong time. Before I read your remark about Google Maps, I was wondering if that really was your house. Neat!
We’re glad the doodles are back.
Thank God for your brand new Mac.
We love every drawing,
For them we were clawing,
Babs, you really have a knack!
Kathy´s last blog ..I’m All For Eco-Friendly, But Geez….
Jay
| 4 February 2010 at 16:02
Wow, that was very scary! Mostly for your parents, I think, but it can’t have been nice coming home and a) not being able to get inside, and b) thinking about ‘what if’!
I love those old London houses with basements. Always have.
Jay´s last blog ..ABC Wednesday with the greyhounds – C
beetle
| 4 February 2010 at 18:32
Kathy: I actually found the house I was born, and spent all my childhood in too. A much nicer house, and area. Maybe another post?
Kathy you made me smile
My blogs posts have lacked for a while
But be sure of one thing
My mac it will sing
When I use it to doodle in style
Jay: Yes, it must have been awful for them, though I can’t remember it phasing me at all! Have you actually lived in a house like that Jay? Cold and drafty
Jay
| 6 February 2010 at 11:14
Haha! No – we lived on the eighth floor of a block of flats in London. Nice and toasty warm!
I’ve stayed in a similar house in Brighton though, and yeah .. come to think of it, it was freezing at times!
Jay´s last blog ..Finding Beauty – Mr Sid
Junk Drawer Kathy
| 6 February 2010 at 12:04
Babs, can you imagine how hard it would be to leave comments on blogs in the form of limericks??? I should run a contest or something. Best limerick about — something, don’t know what — wins a giant prize. Limericks are harder to write than you think, eh?
Junk Drawer Kathy´s last blog ..I’m All For Eco-Friendly, But Geez….
beetle
| 6 February 2010 at 14:48
Jay: I guessed not. Like a lot of very old things – Nostalgic but not much in the way of creature comforts.
Kathy: What a great idea! I imagine some would be very funny! I agree, limericks are not that simple to write. I wrote one at school when I was very young and it was ridiculous