Joy James
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Posts posted by Joy James
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Pssst.... (no I'm not!) Wanna know where the best fish and chips are to be had? The PLOUGH at Farnsfield!
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Hi Stan, can't recall my teacher at leaving point but know that my first one was Miss Castle. Dad said her big red nose was the result of drink (my fam were tee total) and he'd seen her staggering out of a pub in town so ever after that I knew she was drunk when she taught me! (Taps the side of her nose sagely!)
U must realise that we were very parochial back then and if you didn't live on Moffat street I'd barely know you! None of the names ring a bell but I do recall the Moffat Street Evan's (David, Rae, Lena) Browns (Barbara, Beryl, Maureen and Bub) Dunns of Pym street (Christine, Tony Evelyn). The kids today have it so easy to stay in touch, back then there being no communication whatsoever, when you moved house, even by a mere street or two, you virtually dropped off the edge of the world!
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Hello Nottstalgia's.
Yesterday was my 76th birthday so I am getting on a bit now and though fairly competent pc wise, I do have trouble understanding and finding my way round this site. My fault entirely.
Big thanks to Kath James (we James girls gotta stick together....) for telling me I had messages here.
I had a lovely day yesterday! Quite the best birthday ever! It began by being told my hearing is shot, just how shot I didn't know till they put those ugly brown bits in my tabs. I instantly realised how noisy the world really is....mine is usually so peaceful as the sound seems to come through a cushion!
My kitchen clock is over 40 yrs old and I never knew it ticked!!! Ditto the one in the lounge. I am an early riser - usually just about 3am - and today I switched on my world of sound and though I've lived in this house since 1968, never knew my bedroom floorboards creak! So my lovely birthday continued with a lunch engagement with my good friend Jenny who had splashed out a HUGE sum for a bottle of my fav perfume Oscar De La Renta! Bliss.
There CAN only be one place to go for the BEST fish and chips and its the PLOUGH at Farnsfield. Ohhhh fish and chips to die for! I got talking to a few diners and related the following;
I'd had an interesting Colwick car boot the previous day and had stopped to look at something and the male booter had said I could have that for a fiver. What? The bike, I can't ride a bike. Everybody can ride a bike. As a kid, I didn't have shoes on my feet or a coat on my back & I didn't have one friend with a bike, so never had the opportunity. You can learn. Too late, I'm a big woman and we are talking broken bones if I fall off. You are not a big woman you have a lovely figure! Shocked,
I walked very close to him and whispered, 'I don't know whether to thank you or f--k you!' He roared with laughter and said he was here for the rest of the day....I told him to get on his bike. The story went round the Plough and Bob, the owner/chef came out to see what was happening with the laughter. I repeated the tale and he sat down with us and we all chatted like old friends. One chap took an interest in me and asked was I married and I said no, how many times married and I said two and he asked did I want a third hubby? He disappeared and came back with a bouquet of flowers he'd nicked out of the Plough garden, and sang an Elvis impression of The Wonder of you and ended with the Happy birthday song. As I left, Bob gave me a HUGE bottle of champagne!
....Like I said, quite the best birthday ever......
Mind, Daily Mail readers might have spotted my letter in their letters column yesterday...if so, you know its not been my best week.......
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Sally Slick Slack on London road...The Meadows?? Not a hop skip and a jump from Sneinton Market is it?
GOODBYE DRURY HILL & SNEINTON MARKET
Why did they pull down Drury Hill?
Why waste it that infamous day?
From Weekday Cross to old Broad Marsh
it had ever led the way.
Small it was and oh so steep,
but worthy of this humble ditty,
with tiny footpath, this cobbled street,run down yet oh so pretty.
Never could a car get past,
its road being far too narrow,
the only traffic built for it,
were feet and the odd wheelbarrow.
A bookshop stood here,
a dress shop on the right,
a cobblers and clockmakers too,
and traders lived behind their shops,
though of comforts there were few.
In summer the sun was warm and kind
and bathed it in golden light,
But it was postcard pretty when frosted over
in glorious winter white.
Slippy it was sometimes
and I took the odd tumble there.
But it didn’t ever stop me usingthat ancient thoroughfare.
But ‘they’ thought it in the way
and would stop their shopping mall,
so they took a vote and sent this streetcruelly to the wall.
This lovely place was flattened by the stroke of a pen
never to be seen by the light of day again.
Oh later they said they were sorry,
it had been a big mistake!
And now the market at Sneintonhas been dealt the same horrid fate.
The market we once knew and loved
the council have seen it off!
Twas frequented for centuriesby the poor man and the toff.
It’s supported thousands of families,
clothed and fed many more.
Kept Nottingham City going,
right through the second world war.
Through all these many centuries,
of the market folk t’was said,
'They stood out in all weathersto earn their daily bread.’
Jacky Pownall sold baskets of pots,
he’d haul them up on his hip,
throw them high in the airand they’d crash down with never a chip.
I’m glad old Sally Slick Slacks gone,
all alone she just sold rags.
A tanner for a bunch of lace,earned enough for her pint and fags!
‘Reg the veg’ stood near the school,
everyone’s mate, no-body's fool.
Tough as old boots who midst the clamour,filled old folks bags and said “Gi' us a tanner.”
I went there wi’ our mam once,
she bought me a cardi of blue.
I’d never owned anything beforeof so soft and pretty a hue.
She paid a penny halfpenny
and I wore it with great pride,
till she washed and spoilt itand I cried and cried and cried.
And shoes I got with ankle straps,
brown leather with a shine.
On showing them to my friend Pat,she said “They once were mine.”
Every market manager,
be he Joseph , Sam or Jack,
was always known as ‘Toby’,
bet a quid you didn’t know that.
And there have been hundreds of ‘Toby’s’,
on that market through many a year,
but on their death bed you can be sure;the council won’t shed a tear.
Oh Sneinton I shall miss you,
your noise and friendly chatter,
some brave folk tried to stop thembut it was far too late to matter.
They’ll swap this institution f
or high gloss granite and chrome
and fancified upholsteryof chipboard and coloured foam.
Oh there’ll be gyms and fancy shops,
of those we have enough
and to folk like me who mourn its loss,the council men say ‘Tough!’
And not too far along the years,
trust me, just you wait,
some council man will make his nameand say it’s out of date!
I know not who thought this one up,
by face nor yet by name,
but I sincerely hope I live to see youhang your head in shame.
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Sally Slick Slack on London road...The Meadows?? Not a hop skip and a jump from Sneinton Market is it?
GOODBYE DRURY HILL & SNEINTON MARKET
Why did they pull down Drury Hill?
Why waste it that infamous day?
From Weekday Cross to old Broad Marsh
it had ever led the way.
Small it was and oh so steep,
but worthy of this humble ditty,
with tiny footpath, this cobbled street,run down yet oh so pretty.
Never could a car get past,
its road being far too narrow,
the only traffic built for it,
were feet and the odd wheelbarrow.
A bookshop stood here,
a dress shop on the right,
a cobblers and clockmakers too, and traders lived behind their shops,
though of comforts there were few.
In summer the sun was warm and kind
and bathed it in golden light,
But it was postcard pretty when frosted over
in glorious winter white.
Slippy it was sometimes
and I took the odd tumble there.
But it didn’t ever stop me usingthat ancient thoroughfare.
But ‘they’ thought it in the way
and would stop their shopping mall,
so they took a vote and sent this streetcruelly to the wall.
This lovely place was flattened by the stroke of a pen
never to be seen by the light of day again.
Oh later they said they were sorry,
it had been a big mistake!
And now the market at Sneintonhas been dealt the same horrid fate.
The market we nce knew and loved
the council have seen it off,
frequented for centuriesby the poor man and the toff.
It’s supported thousands of families,
clothed and fed many more.
Kept Nottingham City going,
right through the second world war.
Through all these many centuries,
of the market folk t’was said,
'They stood out in all weathersto earn their daily bread.’
Jacky Pownall sold baskets of pots,
he’d haul them up on his hip,
throw them high in the airand they’d crash down with never a chip.
I’m glad old Sally Slick Slacks gone,
all alone she just sold rags.
A tanner for a bunch of lace,earned enough for her pint and fags!
‘Reg the veg’ stood near the school,
everyone’s mate, no-body's fool.
Tough as old boots who midst the clamour,filled old folks bags and said “Gi' us a tanner.”
I went there wi’ our mam once,
she bought me a cardi of blue.
I’d never owned anything beforeof so soft and pretty a hue.
She paid a penny halfpenny
and I wore it with great pride,
till she washed and spoilt itand I cried and cried and cried.
And shoes I got with ankle straps,
brown leather with a shine.
On showing them to my friend Pat,she said “They once were mine.”
Every market manager,
be he Joseph , Sam or Jack,
was always known as ‘Toby’,
bet a quid you didn’t know that.
And there have been hundreds of ‘Toby’s’,
on that market through many a year,
but on their death bed you can be sure;the council won’t shed a tear.
Oh Sneinton I shall miss you,
your noise and friendly chatter,
some brave folk tried to stop thembut it was far too late to matter.
They’ll swap this institution f
or high gloss granite and chrome
and fancified upholsteryof chipboard and coloured foam.
Oh there’ll be gyms and fancy shops,
of those we have enough
and to folk like me who mourn its loss,the council men say ‘Tough!’
And not too far along the years,
trust me, just you wait,
some council man will make his nameand say it’s out of date!
I know not who thought this one up,
by face nor yet by name,
but I sincerely hope I live to see youhang your head in shame.
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I have to say though I recall a somewhat different kind of Sally Slick Slack. She'd push the pram up and down St Ann's Well road and sometimes she had a dog in there which she cooed to as if it was a baby. Never mind the weather, she wore what she wanted. I recall once seeing her on the hottest day of the year and she was wearing a heavy fur coat. Our dad told her she was mad wearing a coat that heavy in this heat and she went for him. She screamed that she had a paper from Mapperley hospital and it proved that she wasn't mad. She dived in the pram and bought out a tattered piece of yellow paper and waved it under dads nose then asked and had he got one? No he hadn't, of course and she cackled with laughter and called out "Now whose mad?"
Joy James
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I have found this which is attributed to W J MELVIN
They called her Sally Slick Slack
a character girl was she
She tramped around Sneinton Market place
to see what she could see.
Her goal was was getting bits of sticks
to put in her old black pram
and she'd often beg a fish box
off a market man.
and the market men would tease her
as she went about her way
they would shout and ask her
'Hows your sticks?'
and you would hear her say....
"Mind your bish nish
mind your bish nish
in her funny sort of way
"it'chs nowt cla blummin do wi' yo;
it'chs mine tae gi' away."
She'd totter off up Carlton road
in a shuffle sort of way
with her long black dress
and sugar sack apron
and to herself she'd say
"it'chs nowt cla blummin do wi' yo;
it'chs mine tae gi' away".
She would keep on talking to herself
in her clacky Victorian way
wearing a small Victorian hat
and a long pin so they say.
Her gait was old and shuffled
a character girl she may
and as she trundled with her pram
You wished her 'a good day.'
She'd look at you and in her funny kind of way
Would tell you
"Mind yer bish nish,
It'ch's mine ter gi' away."
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Hi folks,I am looking to hold a COLMANS'aka CLINTON ROOMS reunion in the spring.Did you go there way back then? Sneak in on ‘grab a granny’ night? Or were you one of the glamorous ladies and there were plenty, come on, ‘fess up! Maybe you were one of the more sedate Saturday or Sunday clients? Do you recall me? I bet I knew YOU! I was a regular & probably danced the barn dance with you. It was quite a place and is missed even today. My new book THE DAYS OF WINE AND POSEURS! takes you back to those long gone days.Where are you now Oz, John, Graham, Berny, Steve, Tony, Farmer Giles? Jackie, Molly, June, Micki, Jenny & Sylvy? All well I hope. I am because I’ve just had the most exciting 18 mths of my life due to the books I‘ve written about my life in Nottingham during the past decades and the texts, emails, letters and phone calls from you saying how I’ve invoked such memories in you all. I talk about life ‘way back when’ in your libraries, ‘stutes & other social groups and its been great fun meeting up again with folk I’ve not seen for years & at times I’ve been saddened (and shed more than a few tears) to learn that some of us didn’t make it this far. I’ve taken you back to a war torn St Ann’s of the ‘40’s in YO’D MEK A PARSON SWEAR!, ‘50’s Broxtowe in ‘YO’D MEK A PARSON SWEAR AGAIN! & ‘60’s ‘Hyson Green and Clifton in ‘BOG ALL TO SWEAR ABOUT!’
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Thanks for this, I couldn't half have made use of it when I was writing my 2nd book.
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Yes its on every Sunday and I have been a fan of it and rarely missed it ever since it opened and have bought some lovely stuff. Only 2 wks ago I bought a designer made, never been worn, hand knitted, full length coat for £4.
I looked the label up on the net and it cost £145!
How about we start a topic off about the oddest things seen at a boot? How about a coffin at Colwick!!! and a parachute!! (think about it...it fails to open and you go where to get your redress?)
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You were right, it was Hazleford Ferry.
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Nolly was quite a man. I recall our last conversation when he told me about his (2nd?) wife having twins. He told me all about the boat and begged me to go and see him. He described how he was moored at Hoveringham ferry on the bend of the river and had rigged up the sound of the Queen Mary fog horn and relayed it through loudspeakers on his deck. He said he would wait until it got to evening and as the mist was rising waited until he could hear the tiny chug of a small boat nearing the bend and then play the 'BOOOOO---OOOOOM' sound full blast and the hapless boat owner would sh1t himself as he rounded the bend. He was a bloody idiot.
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I am on my third 'Swear' book and have reached the time, mid to late 60's when I was the resident singer at the Musters. I am stuck for the names of some of the first class keyboard players. I recall Burt Hartley, Austin (HELP!), The drummers....I can only bring to mind one they called Elvis and the infamous Nolly Buck. HELP FOLKS.
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Hiya folks,
out in the garden today I saw a black butterfly. It was quite small, wings about the size of that common small blue one I somrtimes see, and dainty and seemed to have either a lomg body or a long tail. Anyone know what it was? I have never seen anything like that before.
Joy James
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I am fairly new to this writing game and only wrote my first document as a history for my children and grandchildren. It was only when a friend viewed it and thought it should have a wider audience that I decided to publish it as YO'D MEK A PARSON SWEAR and folk seem to like it - so much so they began to ask, 'What happened next?' Mam moved us to what she called 'Posh Broxta', well it was in those days and we not only had our own INDOOR toilet but a kitchen sink with real hot water via the wonder of the age, the ASCOT!!!! The 2nd book YO'D MEK A PARSON SWEAR...AGAIN! deals with living on Whitwell Road Broxtowe.
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Help you Gossers! Am writing my third book and am trying to find a Nottingham man by the name of PERRY CARL for info only he would know. He is a well known singer in and around these shores. Also, does anyone remember the Malc Allen Sextet who worked at the Commodore in the 60's? In particular the saxe player who made up the Allen part of their name and who emigrated to New Zealand (I think) in the late 60's? Have just rung Malcolm and that phone number is ominously no longer available.
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It was the new book launch yesterday and it was gratifying to see so mnay people come and join me. I am often asked if these are true tales of my life and in the 2nd book there is a story of getting my very first new coat. I went with a friend on the Saturday morning and finally chose a white one!!!!...more, I could not wait to wear it and C&A bagged up my old one. We crossed over to Woolworths and I bought a pair of red dice dangling earrings. Convinced the whole world was lloking at me and admiring my new coat I went to cross the road again and the pair of us got bowled over by a motor bike. White coat...motor bike? No contest. At the launch yesterday who should turn up but my coat buying friend Pat Newman whom I have not seen these last 20 yrs. It was a wonderful reunion.
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You were right on the location and I have a piccie taken in Jan 1946 of the entrance which was via the front of the owners bunglaow, up for sale at that time. There is a man (the owner?) standing in the front of the house and he has decorated the front 'garden' with what looks to be the entire contents of a graveyard, statues of cherubs and angels, urns etc. I have tried to upload it but for some reason it won't go. I also have a fishing ticket which looks as though ti was issued yesterday which cost 6d and ditto on the upload. Grrrrrr
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Now now boys, settle down......lets not have bloodshed eh?
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I remember the Moo Cow well but only went into it once. That was enough. It was the IN place , the cliche 'anyone who was anyone' frequented it but oh it was mucky. It was all Americanised as I recall and done up in gaudy pastel colours but the fag smoke quickly dulled everything to dark orange. I have just released my 2nd book YO'D MEK A PARSON SWEAR...AGAIN! and one of the incidents in that book is centred on that cafe.
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He was the most cantankerous sod! He would switch off his phone for days, weeks even and we all warned him that at his (our!) age that was not the brightest thing to do. In an emergency he would have all on to shove the jack back in. He countered by saying the ringing got on his nerves and that no-one ever rang him anyway!!! I personally can say that for every time he rang me, I have rung him 10 times and so had my siblings. For several weeks I had been trying to ring him and so had my younger brother and sister Eileen but it just rang off the wall lulling us into thinking he had gone out or away for a few days. Eventually my brother went round to see him and realised something was wrong and called the police. He had been dead for about 6 wks. And oh yes, we did care very much.
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I used to really like Colwick Cheese. I haven't heard anybody mention it for years and was beginning to think it was a product of my imagination. :-)
I recall they used to sell it on a stall on Victoria Market, at the south end upstairs facing the record stall.
Take one pint of full cream milk amd let it go sour. Strain it through a piece of cloth - an old sock is ideal but I BEG YOU TO WASH IT FIRST - put the solids into a bowl and mix in a little salt (I also add black pepper) and put it in the fridge to solidify and there you have a passable Colwick Cheese! Mind, if you buy the Frech Boursin its infinitely better! Du Panne, Du Boursin Du BLISS!
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Just been scanning evening post on line and one man found in trent and the other in colwick park - scary!
What's this about Colwick Park? I live there and have heard nowt...but then I was always the unobservant one!
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My 2nd book deals with us moving to 'posh' (mam's word!) Broxta when I was 11. We lived just round the corner from you In Whitwell road. I went to Player school but I am a lot older than you. In our day there used to be an ant like trail of kids of all ages carrying jugs of all size and type down Bradfield road to be filled with foaming ale at the 'beer off'. Imagine health and safety's reaction to THAT today!!! We'd dawdle knowing full well that the foam would still be there no matter how long it took us to walk back up that long hill. A bit diff to the chemical crammed stuff folk drink today!
I recall the Dunns (Pym st), Browns, Lees and Evans (Moffat street), Mr Martin head at Bluebell hill...of I shall be here all day!
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Musters Club West Bridgford
in 60's Nottingham
Posted
Hi Nick.....guess what I got for Christmas? Wrong! Bronchitis!
My lungs sound like the tube during rush hour and hanging over the washbasin coughing while trying to clear them
has put me on personal eye to eye contact with the plug hole which seems to be a really interesting sub culture!
..........and yes I've got a few of those Clubman's Gazettes c/o writer and ventriloquist Val Terry. I'd love to see yours!