Memories are made of this

Well what a busy weekend.  Please forgive me a tad if I rattle on a bit - its a while since I posted and am just stretching the writing muscles a tad and also showing my age to boot.

Saturday was spent at my Mums.  She is having a new central heating boiler installed and the plumber needed to do work in the attic.  One small problem the attic was heaving.  Enter one son, one daughter, one daughter in law and two nephews.  We spent the day clearing the attic of rubbish and bits and bobs. My nephews were intrigued to see what would come down next, including a load of toys that were still living in the loft that belonged to my brother.  Mum sorted through items as to what she did or did not want.  But one of the things to come out of the attic was special cards going back years - we have left mum to sort those out as and when she is ready, no doubt that will be emotional for her as she is very sentimental.   Clearing the attic  was something that had been bothering my mum for sometime, but she couldn't get in the attic to get things sorted.  Hence the cavalry.

It was a good productive and constructive day, but most of all a good family day.  There were no tears, but many memories, and good quality family time, which we don't always get these days.  We had fish and chips for dinner   It was funny at times as well especially when my brother started to get ratty and he reminded us all so much of my Dad, with his slight lack of patience at times.  A real chip off the old block. 

The loft was always my father's domain -its where his dark room was  - we have always had a dark room wherever we have lived, as photography was always my Dad's hobbie and passion.  

All sorts of things came out of the loft, and it was slightly emotional at seeing items that had memories that went back to childhood.  Yep they are only things, but a link to a memory or memories which are far more important in my book.  My father was a keen exponent of photography and one of the things to be "found" was his first camera case which was made of pig skin.  Dad always had this with him when we were little and I bought it home with me to use for my camera.  There were also all sorts of other gadgets that came down, most of them my dad had obtained to use with his home movie making - he used to make cine films, latterly dvd movie productions complete with music and sound tracks.  

Needless to say both dustbins were full and my brother paid three visits with a full car to the local tip. A big pile of stuff went to one side for a local charity.  Items that neither of us wanted but at least is going to do some good in a fresh quarter.

There were also my grandfather's concertina's which also brought back a lot of memories as my grandfather always used to keep us entertained as children either with his banjo or by playing the concertina  To run my fingers over the wood of the case, and to touch the concertinas that my grandfather had so proficiently played bought back a host of lovely memories. My brother has the banjo and no doubt in due course the concertina's will both pass to my nephews.  Both are musical and play the flute and other instruments so it seems sensible that these family heirlooms should pass to them in good time.  Unfortunately both my nephews never knew their great granddad and the eldest only just about remembers his great grandmother or "Nan" as she was affectionately known.

Another link with my childhood was a big box of 78 records and 45's.  My mum is one of 10 and the brothers and sisters used to buy records and these were left at home when they all left.  They took what they wanted individually but there was this big box left that was given to me as a 2 to 3 year old that got an awful lot of play.  Some were broken along the way but looking through those records when I got them home, really bought things home. (they are not to everyone's taste but it wouldn't do if we were all the same  Such titles as:-

Bachelor Boy by Ray Pilgrim

Living Doll Cliff Richard

Yes Sir That's my Baby/Shakin all over Johnny Kidd and the Pirates

Running Bear Johnny Preston

Hava Nagila The Spotnicks

Zorbas Dance 

Flashback The Rockin Berries

Lonely Boy Paul Anka

The Young Ones Cliff Richard

Halfway to Paradise Billy Fury

Deck of Cards Wink Martindale

My Old Man's a Dustman Lonnie Donegan

Old Shep Elvis Presley

Can't Help Falling in Love/Rock a Hula Baby Elvis Presley

Singing the Blues Tommy Steele

Oh Carol Neil Sedaka

Big Bad John/I won't go Hunting with you Jake Jimmy Dean

To a Sleeping Beauty Jackie Gleason

And a whole host more to boot

In time I would quite like to obtain an old record player so that I can give these classics another airing.  There are also lots of 78 by Elvis Presley, Alma Cogan, Liberace, Anthony Newley, Doris Day, and a host of others.  One day wait and see.  I also have a big pile of 45 singles and LP's (remember them ) from my own teenage years.  I have a lot of CD's as well, but they are not as tactile as the LP's or the singles.  

Even though I don't play an instrument at the moment, music always has and is a very big part of my life.  I am a frustrated piano player in an alternative life.

I have also purloined a very large wicker basket for storing all my wools and squares in that I am crotcheting at the moment (I have a partwork that is called the Art of Crotchet with full explanations as to how to do different  patterns) in an attempt to stop Missy nicking off with them and now that the winter evenings are setting in I shall really have to get cracking.  Its ideal to pick up and do of a weekday evening after coming home from work.

A family is made up of many different components, but to me the over-riding one is always love.  We always knew that whatever we did wherever we went that we were both loved and cherished by our parents.   I just  wish we spent more time like we did on Saturday - it reminded me so much of when I was growing up. Just being able to be plain Tricia with no expectations just acceptance.  There was always love - always teasing the occasional dust up (like the time my brother used my rear end for target practice with his air pistol as I was bending down to get washing out of the washing basket to hang on the line.  He swore blind to my Dad that he hadn't [my rear end knew differently].  Baby bruv did own up in the end to my Dad not long before he passed.  Nowadays we have a good laugh about it.

But hey that's being part of a family  and I am very blessed in that I have a very loving family. Its a strange old mix, as  events, thoughts, feelings, items, memories, music, different bits and bobs all go towards the family memory chest and as the song goes "Memories are made of this".

Take care everyone


Pattypan


xx