No, this is not a 7 volume autobiographical novel containing a lengthy description of eating petite madeleine with tea.** More a gentle reminder of a little of my past. Well, I can indulge myself on my own blog!
You have probably forgotten dear reader, but some while back I mentioned how my mum had moved from rural Norfolk to a care home in busy SW London. Recently we returned to her house to begin clearing stuff; always a difficult task but also one that evoked many memories of times long gone. Hankies out!
Amongst the many things we came back with were some garden memories.
We gave this little potty chap to my step-father several years ago & he sat on a pillar in their garden since then, falling off once & having to be carefully resuscitated with glue & garden wire. He could not be abandoned to an unknown fate.
The other memories go back to my grandparents & their garden.
My grandfather was a carpenter & made lots of little wooden toys & other items, most of which have long gone. These 2 birds remain. My daughter thinks they are creepy.
But best of all …..
This frequently re-painted policeman twirls & whirls in the wind & used to stand on top of the gatepost at our house when I was small, & medium come to that. I believe I have mentioned that I lived in extremely rural part of N Cumbria where my parents were teachers at the small village school, although there was no actual village. We lived in the school house, a little way down the road from the school. Those were the days when doors weren’t locked & one day my mum sent a 6 year old down to the house to collect something & bring it back to the school. He was a little longer than she thought & he ran back puffing & panting. “Sorry Miss” he said on being asked why he had been so long, “I had to wait for the policeman to let me go through the gate.”
So my garden memories will now find a place in my garden & the policeman will always bring a smile to my face.
**I am just so chuffed at that literary reference; you all know it of course!