A page for mam and dad.


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There wont be many reading this page that dont have fond memories of their parents and their characteristics and realise what a hard life they endured bringing us up i dont know about anyone else but i would be interested in what made your parents the best. Dad buying me crisps and pop outside cresent pub on sunday dinner after him having worked long hours all week Mum getting ready to go out with Dad for a sing song round the piano at theDuke of Devonshire and her love of Gene Kelly singing in the rain .God i miss em .

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My mother once went to a cricket match and remarked that she didn't think the sight screens at either end of the ground were big enough to keep the sun out of the batsmen's eyes. I miss her sort of logic.

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Not many days pass where memories of me mam don't come flooding back, either making me smile, or bringing a lump....................

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Mum died 10 years ago but I still feel her presence. Hating all the discipline when I was a kid, but knowing why when my own children were born. She always accepted my friends as special and years later did the same for my own kids.

Sadly my dad passed away 10 days ago. He was a joiner in the building trade but made a lot of his own furniture during the 50s and 60s. I don't think I can bear to part with the table made from plywood and covered with formica, and the 4 stools. I can remember him making them when I was still at primary school and they are as good today. I grew up in that house and all the memories are locked in there.

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I became interested in trains at a very young age, my Mum took me on a special train from Bulwell Common to Doncaster in 1953 to see the exhibition for the plant centenary. I remember going through the tender of Mallard on to the footplate. I was ten.

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A nod to all grandparents, too.

If you've read any of my posts you'll notice I'm always quoting my grandma. My dad died when I was 3, and as my mum had to go out to work I spent an awful lot of time at grandma's. She had had eight kids and it was always jolly and busy - bit like Madness's "Our House". All the neighbours would drop in - we had a particularly foul mouthed lady with a heart of gold living a few doors away. She used to bring rhubarb from her garden - and the custard powder - and the milk! Grandma was always saying to her (regarding her swearing), "You'll never get to heaven, D" Funnily enough they're buried next to each other in Carlton cemetry. She, too, was big hearted (she was a big lady, period!) and there was always a bit of a Christmas box for the dustbin men, milkmen and coal man even though she had little money to speak of. She always had the Co-op milkmen in for Sunday breakfast, and they's eat her bacon and tomato sandwiches while they "did the books".

In the long summer holidays all my uncles and aunts would dump their kids on her and it was like one big, mad, happy creche!

Grandad was a regular in the Sherwoods and was serving in India when WWI broke out. He came back to England, had a fortnight's leave, then straight out to a bitter winter in France - one of the "Old Contemptibles". Apart from a few spells in hospital during the war he stayed in France until 1919, one of the "lucky" ones. A gentle, placid man - I suppose there was nothing left to shock him.

With due respect to Mum, who worked long and hard to put bread on the table, my grandparents had a huge part in my upbringing

and if my grandkids remember me with as much affection as I do them, I'll be more than happy.

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An abundance of special people our generation is the first to be allowed to age in our own time and cannot contemplate what those old characters had to endure we were not packed off to war when we were still wet behind the ears and we dont have to forget what we should not know. What they endured was what made them unique. God bless them all .

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Sadly, my grandparents were not so hands on but reading about affergorrits family brought a tear to my eye. They were what I call 'real people'. My mum was like that and accepted all mine and my brothers friends. We used to have big family gatherings at Christmas and regularly saw my aunts and cousins. When my uncle died in 1963 as a direct result of the s--t he had to endure in the war, we all looked after my cousins in their grief.

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I went to Nottingham Council House today for a birth certificate WOW what a lovely interior although meadows born and bred i have never been inside even the loos are speicial anyway i paid me 25 quid and told to return in an hour.i thought iwould have a walk into the meadows i could not work out how the Poets was so close to BRIDGEWAY HALL when iwas a kid there was arow of houses running inwards then there was the Duke of newcastle then Bells hardware shop then Willersley ST with the Poets on the opposite corner can someone enlighten me.Went for a bit of anostalgic walk to the library nothing in there of interest walked along wilford cresent towards TBS like i had done every morning and dinner time whilst at school i turned left at muskham st and was quite amazed to see the wash house entrace and plaque were still there although you could not enter the building from there i went round to the main entrance which they have made quite ugly although the steps and old entrance remained.I enquired at reception about any of old stuff still in tact the lady asked a young guy to show me around and i was absolutely thrilled to find the pool and cubicals more or less the same as when i and later my son learnt to swim there has children.but unfortunately the old wash house where me mam used to toil had gone replaced with an empty sports hall i found that very sad because when i were a nipper it was an hive of activity and the machinery in there could have told the younger generations how lucky they are .My mams friends husband was a chuffuer for one of the brewerys directors and today brought back memories of him picking us and our washing up in a Rolls Royce opening the door for us dressed in his uniform avery rare accurence on Bunbury St.The young guy that showed me around told that the council were planning to sell Portlands Baths in its entirety shame it cant be saved should we start a petition and try and save itWhilst walking round all the modern crap i stumbled upon St Saviors church and vicarage i had forgotten that stood there and was amazed that it had not been demolished refreshing that some things are left unspoilt. Although me mam and dad have been dead a few years now im sure THE OLD MEADOWS is where they are holding hands and laughing because thats the place they were at there happiest and like so many never seemed happy once it was dem olished

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I remember brian did a bit of boxing can remember having a fight with him on bunbury st we got on most of the time we were just being lads.I am really sorry to hear brian is no longer with us where have the last 45 years gone.

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