Page 7. Our Neighbour Mrs Mathews and more stories

In a small cottage just down the lane from us, lived Mrs. Mathews, her large dog Toby and her son Dick. Dick was a little boy in a mans body, so our mother told us. I remember Dick with pleasant memories, he was extremely tall, walked with a very bad limp and had the intelligence of a five year old, but at the time, I never noticed that he was just fun to be with. His mother was very old and she used to sit outside her door fleaing the dog for hours. We would sit by her side, not talking, just watching as old Toby was flead. She had another favourite pastime to catching fleas and that was catching black beetles in jam jars, huge big ugly beetles. She would have jars everywhere to catch them. What she put in the jars to get them to climb in, i haven't a clue, but it must have been good because she aways had loads of them trapped, and would carry the jars into the garden, talking to them, saying, "Now my black beauties I got you all" and promptly pour paraffin on them. We would watch them squirm until they died, then go home and tell my mother all the lurid details.

When Dick sat on the lavatory in the garden and shouted, "Mam" we would all gather round, because then his mam would sit by the lavatory door to read the Dandy to him and we would all be listening, a good time was had by all, as we listened to Desperate Dan, as told by Mrs. Mathews. What a pair of characters they were. If dad cut a field of wheat, Mrs. Mathews and Dick would be up at the farm within an hour, with a large bag to go a gleaning. Gleaning was picking up all the odd ears of corn left lying in the field. They would spend hours doing this together, up and down the field, Dick and his mam would go. She with an old mac on, down to her feet and wellington boots, he in cordoury trousers and wellingtons. She would be talking nineteen to the dozen to Dick and he faithfully would follow her, picking up the corn.

We'd call him out to play sometimes, "Mrs Mathews, can Dick come out to play?" and she would answer "Yes, my lovelies, for an hour, but he's got to be in bed soon" and when she came out to call him in for bed he'd cry, "No, Mam, no Mam" poor Dick, a man trapped as a little boy or a little boy trapped as a man. I'll never know, but i do remember Dick as a gentle soul and his mam as one of life's characters that sadly we dont see much of today .

Swede or Sugar Beet

It was coming up to November 5th, Bonfire Night.    My wooding skirmishes were going well.   We had a growing bonfire coming along nicely, thank you.
In the yard, I was getting as much burning fuel as posible. This would be the bestest yet.   My two sisters and I had been out all afternoon, bringing more and more wood into the yard.   Dad was saying, "Don't you think you have got enough now ?", but, when was enough, enough?.   So, we kept at it.   A village lad called David was helping us, and he was a little soft in the head, or so we thought .    He was dead keen on our Josie, but, most of the time, my brother was in the way. He also was still very keen on her too.
We were out in the yard, building the fire up, when I decided to get a swede out of the shed, where they were stored.   So, off I went and came back with a small swede, which I was eating and enjoying as we carried on.   My one sister said, "I think ill have a swede too" and off she went to get one. She came back and taking a big bite of hers, she said, "Mine don't taste like swede", "Of course it does" I said, "Mine is good" and i'd finished mine off, just as our dad called us in.   In we all went and David as well.    My mother was folding washing and dad was watching the news.   My sister was still chewing on her swede.   When my father glanced across and said "Well, bugger me Brenda, them kids been in the shed and she's eating sugar beet, that's cattle food for the winter. Damn you kids, keep out of the sheds".    We then went to the dairy to play as we were now in the dog house with dad, and David started chatting up our Josie.   After a few minutes I went into the living room and said "Dad" "Shush" he said, "I'm watching the news" "But, dad" I said, "Hush, child are you deaf?" "No" I said and finished with "David is kissing our Josie up against the dairy door"   Dad was catapulted out the chair like his bum was on fire.   "I'll bloody David him now " and out through the door he shot.   Poor David was grabbed by the scruff of his neck and thrown yards.   As he came up for second wind of Josies mouth.    "You get off home boyo, dont show your face yer again" was my fathers parting shot.   Josie slunk in with her tail between her legs and i had a grin a mile wide plastered on my face.   One upmanship,i thought.
Now to tell my brother, then my evil deed would be complete.   I just wasn't nice to know.   Looking back, my mother was a jump ahead of me.   She grabbed hold of me and said, "Don't you go blabbing to our John about this, you keep well out of it my girl, or you'll answer to me.   I knew my mother meant business too.
The Swill Bin.
My father had secured a contract with the local Woolworths, to collect their kitchen waste every Saturday for the copper boiler and the pigs.    I used to love to go with him on this journey, as we'd go into the store from the back doors and while dad picked up the waste, i would get given a cake or an ice cream. Treats were few and far between.   This was always a red letter day.
When we got back home, dad would empty the swill into the boiler   with a bucket of water and some meal and make a hot mash for the pigs.
The things we found in those waste bins.   Well, put it this way, we had a drawer over flowing with spoons, forks and the odd knife that had been dropped in to the swill.   I well remember one day, our dad coming out of the store with a very large cannister of ice cream. Seems the freezer was out of action and they couldn't keep it, so they gave it to dad.
On arriving home, dad said to tell the kids in the village that there was free ice cream at our place and to bring a dish.   How proud i felt, as the kids queued to have some ice cream.    Even Dick was in the queue.
Us kids were eating the ice cream until we felt sick.    "What you dont eat" dad said "Can go in the swill"   Not if i had anything to do with it, i thought.   So we gorged ourselves.   After an hour we all felt sick.   "Serves you right" said our mam. "You're so greedy" but that didn't help us at all.   I've never really hankered after ice cream since.
Dad also had a contract to pick up the stale bread on a Saturday from the Wonderloaf Bakery.   The cakes you would get left on the big wooden trays were fantastic, of course, they didn't go into the pigs mash either.   We would eat them and sometimes you'd get a really fresh loaf thrown in. As our baker only called twice a week, Mondays and Thursdays, it was very handy to get a nice fresh loaf on a Saturday.    By and large we did very well out of these contracts, as did our pigs. They were fat and sassy until slaughter day
came around.
   The Day My Sister Got Knocked Down
Now, we use to play hide and seek alot during the early summer, and I can remember my young sister was standing, counting to one hundred. Ready or not I'm coming she shouted. We were all hidden in selected places.   I was behind an old dry stone wall. I saw her go to run across the lane, then disappear under a car  which came to a full stop as I watched.  I saw her trying to crawl out   from under it.  I took one look and run. Where I was running to, I really did'nt know. I just wanted to get right away.  My mother told me later, that a gentle man had came into our yard and said, 'Mrs, one of your nippers been run over'. My mother thought he said one of your 'whippets' as my father had a couple of whippets for rabbiting and she said, 'well it was bound to happen they are under your feet must of the time'. The man looked at my mother rather strangely, and said I dont think you quite understand me Mrs, its one of your kids. My god, my mother went as white as chalk, and took to her heels down the lane. It seems our Diane had broken her collar bone and a couple of ribs and had been taken to the Royal Gwent Hospital, Newport, where my parents now went. She was in the hospital a couple of weeks, and my mother and father were down there all the time.
            I can remember the angel cakes my mum made one day for her. Fancy little cakes with cream on the top and little wings. I'd have got run over to have them I thought.
            Another little incident I can remember so well is coming home from school one day.  Walking up the lane, we passed a man stood by a falling down old five bar gate leading on to the mountain. As we passed him he shouted. Of course we all looked at him, and saw he had his willie in his hand.  He then pushed against the gate.   Well, with wings at our heels we fled,  and on telling our parents, dad was already to shoot him, but mum said go fetch a police man Bill.
            When the police man started to question us about the incident, my siblings were tongue tied,  I gave out the information with a flourish. He had his willie in his hand, and was putting it on the gate I burst out at top of my voice. My mum and dad didnt know where to look.  Well, thats what the policeman wanted to know I thought,   I was only doing my best to tell him.     Needless to say, he was never caught.
        We had several scares  in the years to come,  going back and forth to the farm.

one i remember quite well is linked to the sweets named spangles do you remember them they came in different fruit tastes ,    us kids loved them if we ever managed to get our hands on some   well one day my mother and father had gone on one of there expeditions , namely a sale or a market, and we were left to our own devices yet again , getting bored it was decided by a group vote namely me that we walk down the mountain in hopes of meeting mum and dad coming home in the old pickup, and get a ride back up , i remember i was carrying our Diane , who never walked far if she could hitch a ride , and Jenny was carrying Anna with the rest of the brood bringing up the rear , we were picking black berries to on the way down and stuffing our selfs when we met a nice man , out with his dog after the odd bits of chat he offered to show us where bigger juicy black berries grew , i thought i knew where they all grew but i didtn know where he was going to take us , he then pulled out the ultimate temptation spangles , and gave us all one , quickly we took them popping them into our ever open mouths my they tasted good , it was only when he tried to take Diane out off my arms that a warning bell sounded in my head , and i started trying to get the kids away from him but spangles had a big pull and i thank god i heard the old pick up groaning as it trunddled up the mountain    the man vanished in a puff of air as he to heard me say dads coming      so those sort of men were about in those days   we   just were not so well in formed as thank god we are to day us kids lived a charmed life then

Korean War
Now, my elder brother wanted to join the army.  My father wasnt too keen on this as he wanted John to follow in his foot steps.  My brother was adament that he was going to enlist,  and went into the military police.
            I can remember him coming home on his first leave in his uniform. How smart he looked. Its quite refreshing to remember that day as we had an oldish cow called old thirteen.  A hereford cross bred, and this old cow had been petted for years by my brother.  She had missed him. I think when my brother walked in to the farm yard, and had greeted every one,  listened to our compliments on how smart he looked, he took his peaked cap off and walked into the field adjacent to the yard where old thirteen was grazing.   He called her name. I have never seen since the way old thirteen reacted to his voice she run down the field and licked all his face,   pushing him all over the place.    My brother was pleased you could see that in his face,   and the old cow was over the moon as the saying goes at his return.  The love between those two was clear. Old thirteen, on any other farm would have gone long ago to be slaughtered.  She was to remain on our farm until she passed away a few years later   of old age.
            My brother was to be posted to Korea. I'd never heard of the place, but dad said it was half way round the world, and my mother was all weepy at her dearly beloved son going all that way. It seems a war was on and John was needed.  My mother cried buckets the day he left. It was to be nearly two years before we saw him again. He was wounded out there. He had been shot in the shoulder,  then was posted to Japan to get well. The tea- set he sent my mother from Japan is still here.
            Letters passed between him and our Josie.  In fact when he came home they got engaged. It seems our Josie was to become a permanent fixture in our lives.   My father fretted all the time he was away, waiting for his son to come home.  With our Stephen, his other son coming up to three, dad needed John home to take some of the load off my fathers shoulders, as i could see my dad was beginning to look tired,   and old in my eyes. For the first time in my life, I became aware of life, and death.  Plus the fact that Id not always have my beloved father in my life.
My Sister Anna
Now, one of my sisters was called Anna. She would wander about all day, sucking either a piece of straw, or string. She had a lot of me in her. She was always rescueing some stray. She had a pet chicken, an old brown hen which she called her grannie hen. This hen would be perched on Annas shoulder as she wandered about the farm.   It was a laugh looking back on it , but it did not seem strange at the time.   If you saw Anna, you saw the old brown grannie hen.  I'm sure it was stuck there with glue.  It didtn matter what Anna was doing, or where she went, her pet would go too.
        Now, my father would have chores for us all to do on the farm.  I can remember one chore we had. That was weeding the sprouts,   rows and rows of sprouts that required the weeds pulled out between the rows to give them breathing space.   We would all have to get out to do it, and our Anna would be amongst us with her 'grannie' doing her bit. Every now and then grannie would get a nice fat worm to eat,  or a caterpillar. Anna hand fed it. As I write this, I can see the picture in my mind.  If any one saw us today, we would have all ended up in the loony bin, but it was just another chore for us, just another day.
        I liked to collect caterpillars in a old tin.  There would be loads of them on the sprouts,  and when I thought I had enough I'd throw them down in the yard and watch as the free range chickens gobbled them up.  One day, while doing this chore, I had a great idea. Why not knock the caterpillars off the sprouts with sticks, then we would just have to pick them up? So, armed with sticks we gave it a try.  Dad went crazy when he spotted us,  as we were knocking the sprouts down to  another day!
        We seemed to do nothing right, but we were all full of good intentions. Our good intentions, and my fathers ideas always clashed.  He had a saying, and that was 'your doing that job the lazy mans way'.  Dad had lots of sayings.     I'd be waiting to hear my mother call us in for cowl.   Cowl was welsh for a kind of stew,  only it would be nearly transparent, with bits of bacon in it, potatoes and such but very tasty,  hot and filling.   What I wouldnt give today to have a hour with Anna and her grannie hen and my mums cowl.
The Day My Mum Went Home.
After all these years in Wales, my mother planned a trip home. She was so excited at the thought of going back to Swindon for a few days. Her mother had died many years ago, but her step father, brothers and sisters were still alive, and she was looking forward so much to seeing them again. She was taking us kids with her. The only ones left behind to look after dad was John, Josie,  and Jenny.  Dad took her to Newport to catch the train.  I'd never been on a train before, and neither had the rest of the siblings.  So, it was a thrill for us all.  It seemed to me there was hundreds of people on that platform, waiting for the train which was going to London.  When it pulled in there was a rush to get onboard. We were pushed and shoved all over the place, but, at last we were all on the train.  Mum was red in the face as she tried to get us all seated, and explain to us  the places we were passing.
            I can remember the moment we entered the Severn Tunnel. Every thing went dark. Our young Stephen seated on mums lap started crying.  I would have cried too, but I wasnt going to let anyone know I was scared.   The darkness seemed to go on for ever. At last we came out into the light. We all looked at each other and breathed a sigh of relief.  My mother told us it wouldnt be long now as we had passed Bristol. Where was Bristol I thought, I'd no idea.  Soon the train started to slow down, and my mother was getting up to get us all off in one piece.
            Arriving at Swindon, we all stood there wondering what the next move would be, when my mother started calling, Here we are Marg.  This rather plump lady came up and put her arms around mum.  I could here her saying 'welcome home Brenda not before time either'.  Home I thought,  this isnt home.   Home is back on the base of the mountain I loved, but mum was laughing and crying at same time, she was so pleased to be where ever she was.
            Marg was our auntie,  and we was to call her auntie Marg mum said.   We piled into a taxi, and went to a place called Gorse Hill in Swindon,   where my gramps as we was to call him lived. It was a long, long, street with all red bricked houses joined up to each other.   In we went to meet our grampy.    He was a little short man. To me, he looked so old.   He gave my mother a hug and said hello to us all.
            Auntie Marg  laid the table, and we were given paste sandwiches to eat. I was starving, but looking around me as I ate. I wasnt too keen on this place. Looking out the window, there was a tiny boxed shaped garden, not as big as our yard.  How could people live all pushed up together like this when we had miles of open space at home. I was home sick already.
            After a couple of days at our grampys,  I was really ready to go home,  and wasnt keen on our grampy either.   All he did was grumble at us. Dont do that, dont go there.   My mother was introducing us to other people, who were uncles, and aunties as well.  Also lots of other children who belonged to us too.   'When were we all going home'? I kept asking.  Why did my mother want to come here? To me, It wasnt a nice place like back home.
            Looking back, I can remember my mother was so happy those few days  she spent back in her old stamping grounds.  Arriving back at Newport. Dad was waiting for us with a huge grin pasted on his face. He grabbed my mother and said 'God Bren, I missed you'.   Hope he missed us as well I thought.    I knew he had, as he joked with us all on the way home.   My mother said it was nice to go back Bill, but im glad to be home.   My mother saying that really made my father happy.  At last this was home to mum.
Cymro
Dad had bought this old english sheep dog pup which we chritstened Cymro.   He soon became a huge walking hair ball , that was loved by us all.   He'd play for hours with us kids,  and would playfully chase the chickens around the yard.   We all had such great fun with him ,  but my father didnt have much time for fun, as sheep was getting killed around the local farms,   and the farmers were going to hold a meeting to discuss ways of finding out   who was responsible for all the killings.  It was decided that several of the farmers would go out at night  to watch over the flocks. With lambing time coming up fast, it was important the sheep were not stressed.  For several nights the farmers went out in two's and threes,  but found nothing.   Although sheep were still being found dead,   it was a very worried dad that came in early one morning,   and said   that a lot of the farmers were going out enmass the next evening to seek out once and for all the sheep killer. As dad said once, a sheep killer, you'd never stop them once they got the taste of the chase. So, dad loaded up his twelve bore shot gun in preperation for joining up with the other like wise armed farmers. Before going, he told mum to shut all our dogs in. He   didnt want one to follow him and get shot by mistake.    So, the two border collies dad used to round up the sheep, and Cymro were locked in the barn.     Mum was rather worried.  She didnt like my father going out with a loaded gun, but as he said it had to be done.  He had ben gone about a hour when our Cymro not use to being shut in was howling his head off. So, when no one was looking, I sneaked out and let him out, thinking to bring him into the house, but as soon as he was out he shot off, running up the bank like a bat out of hell.    God, now I'd be in for it I thought, and called and called him but he did not stop.   Going into the house, I had to tell my mother what I had done. 'You stupid girl', my mother said, now he will follow your fathers scent,  and dad will be mad when he gets back.   Letting the dog out was so silly,    he could be shot in mistake for the killer.
            We all went to bed but I couldnt sleep worrying about Cymro catching up with dad, and my fathers anger on his return.   In the early hours, I heard dad come in and go up to bed.  I dozed off then,   and getting up in the morning  I was prepared to face the music.   On going into the kitchen, I saw my parents in deep conversation.   My mother said when we were all seated for breakfast  'Your father has something to tell you all'.     Have you caught the sheep killer dad , we all asked. Yes, my father said, I'm afraid we have, and Mr Prosser has shot him.     'Well, thats good then dad', I said, you wont have to worry now about our sheep. 'No love', answered my father, I will not have to worry,    we caught him fair and square killing a ewe.    'Whos dog was it dad' I said.    My father looked straight at me and said quietly, 'Ours love, it was Cymro'.  'No'  I cried, it cant be, 'he wouldnt do that.  He loved us, and we love him'.   My father said it was Cymro alright,   and he had to be shot   he would always be a killer.
            In different ways we all grieved for the dog   My father felt to blame for buying him, and him turning out to be a killer.    I never for gave Mr Prosser,    and wished him a death from a hundred guns,   but looking back, it was the only thing he could have done.   Cymro had to be shot. No more sheep were found savaged , so the culprit had been caught,   and life went back so some shape of normality,   for a while at least.
Jessie Anne
Just across the valley, lived Jessie Annes family.
Jessie Anne was my friend and her sister was my sisters friend.
They had been brought up with much more refinement than we had and Jessie Annes parents were very much into the church and all its teachings.    If i ventured over to their house,her father or mother would often relate to the Bible in anyway, when i'd done or said something I shouldn't, so, I tried not to visit Jessie Annes place too often, which suited us both, as she loved being at my home where we were allowed much more freedom.
I well remember Jessie a big plump girl, rather pretty with long blonde hair.   I got her into more scrapes in a week than she could handle.   I used to love to let her ride behind me on one of the horses.   Jessie was no horse woman and only did it because i'd bully her into it. She was really nervous of the horses, and I'd promise every time, i'd not make the horse gallop when she was on it's back, but she should never have believed me, cos, i always did.   I rode bare back so poor Jessie would be hanging on for grim death behind me as I galloped across the field and she nearly always fell off, but give her her due,she would always have another go.
One day when we'd had a big snow fall the four of us were walking home. Jessie and me in front, and my sister and hers behind.   We were doing the usual stuff kids do in the snow. When I looked around, the other two had disappeared, like they were never behind us in the first place.   It seems an old well was there and the old wooden top was rotten, therefore, both of them fell into the well. I could see them and hear them crying and shouting down there.
Off we ran as fast as we could to my home, shouting that the other two had fallen into the well. With the snow covering the top of course, they hadn't seen it.   It took awhile until my father and a couple of others got them up safely.   Jessie's sister had broken her leg and my sister was cut and bruised.   There were a lot of old wells about up there, and this one had to be filled in and put safe.
Jessie didn't come over very much after her father said it wasn't safe, and we were not a good influence. Where he got that from, I don't know.
I missed Jessie Anne.   Although, thinking back,, I had more fun out of that friendship than she ever did.    She had a lovely temperament and was a smashing girl.
The Time I Left School.
At long last, I could wave bye to that school.   I skipped out of there on my last day full of joy.   I can honestly say, I hated school, but now I stood on the steps of womanhood ready to burst forth on this world and leave my mark.    My mother had got me a job at Jones and Porters, a local grocery store, as counter assistant, dogs body, it should have said.    I hated it after an hour, but my mother told me i had to try and stick it out.
On the Friday, I was paid my first wage and I couldn't wait to get out of that shop with the little brown envelope containing the pricely sum of three pounds in it.   As i passed the store called the London Hosiery on my way home, I saw a beautiful dress in the window, it was blue with red buttons all the way down the front and a red tulip on the left hand side of the skirt, to me it looked out of this world, and it was two pounds.   I rushed in a bought it, and carrying the bag with the dress inside, I made my way home.   I'll never forget that evening.   I entered the kitchen, to find every one eating. My father said, "Sit down love, eat up, you're a working girl now".   In the middle of my tea my father suggested I turn my wage packet over to my mother and she'd give me my pocket money.   The memory of the dress at my feet in the bag came rushing back, and I said, "I bought a nice dress, mum, it only cost two pounds". My father nearly swallowed his tongue.   "You mean to tell me, you spent your wages? " He cried. "Well, tomorrow morning the dress goes back and you'll give your mother the money".   All my weeping and pleading fell on deaf ears, and the following morning I was made to return the dress and get the money back.
   "Is it too small?" The shop assistant said, "We have bigger sizes" "No", I said, "I have to return it". I felt great shame that morning and harsh as it sounds, it taught me a very important lesson.   First and foremost pay your way and my mothers keep was the first debt i had, although I never forgot the beautiful dress.
I didn't stay long in the grocers shop. I really disliked it, and just wanted to be home on the farm.   No matter how hard you had to work.   Eventually, I got my way, and was once again on the farm, the only place i ever wanted to be. The hours were long and the work real hard, but i was happy,, up to my elbows in muck.   Where there's muck there's money, it's said.    Ive seen tons of muck,but very little money.
Our dad was leaving more of the work for my brother and now me as well. He didn't look too well these days and i could see my mother was worried over him, but if asked he'd always say "I'm fine, stop looking at me, like i'm about to curl up and die"   Poor mum she couldn't win, but my father was growing smaller in front of us.    He had a nasty cough too.
John had married Josie and they had a little girl, Brenda, after my mother. So my parents were now proud grand-parents.
The Time I Left School. Part 2.
At long last, my father was persuaded to visit his doctor.   My dad didn't have a lot of faith in doctors, saying they gave you pills which were just sugar coated asprin, but my mother was adamant he was going to go.    The doctor refered him to our local hospital for tests.   It appeared my father had lung rouble, not suprising, considering the time he had spent in the pit, but now he had to leave the pit and have a lung operation.      He was taken to Cardiff hospital for his operation.
The day after we all went to see him, he looked dreadful and we all came out crying.   Seems my darling father had lung cancer and would never be an active man again.
I can remember when he came out of the hospital, a shadow of his former self.   He was so thin and weak, but he'd sit in the yard on a chair, put there for him and feed the chickens.
How many times did i look at dad and then go away and cry my eyes out?.   It was summer and the flies would play hell with him as he sat there, but you couldn't get him to go inside the house.   My dear dad died the following November and today, may. may years later I can still feel the awful pain of his passing.   "Why, my dad ?" I kept asking, but never got any answers.   One thing I do remember is, the day of his funeral, when a neighbour said to my mother "Bill, will never be dead Brenda while that Beryl is alive ". I vowed i'd be a credit to my dear father.    What a wonderful man, what a wonderful father.   Now Life must go on without him.

Without Dad.
After the funeral, non of us seemed to want to carry on.   Dad was gone and a big empty space was there.   I'd look for him as i crossed the yard or when i saw saw the cows wandering up the cow sheds for milking.   Chores had to be done, but none of us seemed to have a heart to do them.    We struggled on for a few weeks, then my mother said, "I've come to a decision, I'm going to look for a small house in the village and leave the farming to John", but, unknown to us, John had plans of his own. He and Josie were going to live in Rhodesia, and buy a farm out there.    So, again my mother had to decide that we'd stick it out on the farm for awhile longer.
John and Josie left a couple of weeks later bound for A frica and it was to be many years before we saw them again.   Mum was not doing to well without John to help us, and of course she was missing our dad, just like we were.    We survived that first winter without my father, but we all knew we'd have to sell up and move on.     So a small house was bought in the village and my mother moved everyone there. One by one, our family split up.   My siblings all went their different ways, got married or got work away.   Mum still had the farm, although we didn't farm it.   The house lay empty and the fields were empty.   Now it would be Stephens.
As the years passed, i married and my mother  came to live with me.   John died in Africa, together with his eldest son.   I remember having to tell my mother that sad news.   She was now well past seventy and i could see her failing too.   I never really got over losing my father and it didn't get any easier when i knew it was only a matter of time before my mother followed him.   She died aged eighty one.   A wonderful mother had now gone to join my dad.   Our troubles were not over.   In the space of the next four years, I was to see i was to see our lovely Diane, that chubby little girl that Oscar had chased and attacked, all those years ago die, still a young mother. Such a beautiful woman was our Diane, God surely had a beautiful angel up in heaven with Diane. Then our Stephen was taken ill and I was called to the hospital at three a.m to be with him.   His last words to me, were, "I love you Beryl" and as i kissed his forehead, he was taken.    Fate still had wicked plans in store, my husband was the next to take the journey to heaven.
Now is sit here, thinking of all the wonderful times we had and the unique childhood i gew up with.
I hope you have enjoyed reading this account of my life as much as i've enjoyed setting it down for you.    I can see children sliding down the tump on pieces of card board, hear my parents laugh as they took sides to play rounders on a Sunday evening in the summer.   I can see Frank Newman running for our kitchen door with no eye brows and black face. My little fox cubs tottering across the yard in hopes of extra milk and the ghosts come back. I live again in the wondorous days of paradise lost, but never ever forgotten.
The End, or is it ?
MORE STORIES FROM BERYLS YOUTH
(1)
Now, I've been asked to write about my teen years. Well, here goes.       I well remember the first boy I set my cap at. His name was Charlie, and he lived in the village.   He often use to wait for me at the school bus stop and walk up the valley to my home came into view, then he'd be gone,  as my father would get very angry. But, if Charlie was any thing, he was persistant, and soon wheedled his way on to the farm as a weekend helper.   It was our secret that he was only coming there to see me, and both of us wore the same stupid grin on our faces. It didnt take my mother long to suss out what was what.  'Oh yes, whats going on between you and that Charlie'? she asked me one evening. 'Nothing mam',  I answered. By to- days standards, nothing was .  A quick kiss in the stable was as much as ever happened, but I was happy with Charlie, that is until the week the fair came to the village. After much   pleading, we were allowed to go.
    I could hear the music from the fair, long before it came into view. The sounds, the waltzers, and the coloured lights were magic. The few pennies we had been given was burning a hole in my pocket. I had arranged to meet Charlie there, and sure enough, there he was, driving the bumper cars.  I waved and waited, and i waited, but Charlies love had now gone into bumper cars . He was busy riding the back of them,   and didnt have the slightest interest in me.   Well, two could play at that game I thought, and all my fighting instincts rose up. I jumped on the cars, gave the fair boy what I thought was a sexy grin, and was away.   Round and around I rode the bumper cars,  not paying, but with the fair boy in attendence riding the back of my car. Now, Charlie had a different look on his face!    Wasnt I a clever clogs, I thought.
    I had a great time, but had to be home by nine thirty.   So, next time the cars stopped, off I jumped. 'Hey where you going' the fair boy shouted.  'I have to go home now' I said, 'thank you',  but, he wasnt to let me off so light,   and tagged on to my side.   My sisters had all gone ahead of me. It was dark, and there I was with this stranger by my side. 'My name's Jordan' he said,  and put his arm around me.   Oh dear, this was now becoming a different ball game.   The fun had all gone. I was feeling nervous,  but Jordan had other thoughts on his mind , and soon was pushing me all over the place as he   tried to kiss me.  Fear lent me strenght as it came to an all out struggle.  He had his hands in my hair which I had plenty of, and was pushing my head back.  I couldnt scream for some reason. I'd gone dumb , but I sure could fight ,  and fight I did.   I was down on my knees,   with this great lump slowly forcing me even lower.  Then my knight in shinning armour appeared, in the shape of Charlie. 'Get off her', he screamed , and threw him self on top of Jordan .     While they were exchanging blows, I staggered up,  and my only thought was to get home.    My hair all out of the braids, dirt on my dress , I ran home,      to fall sobbing into my mothers arms.    Dad went into his killing mode, and Jordan would have suffered all manor of deaths   if dad had got his hands on him. Charlie appeared next day with a black eye, but to a hero's reception.
    Apart from damaged pride, I had come to no harm ,   but it put me off close encouters with the opposite sex for quite a while.
(2)
Charlie and I were never the same again, although he still visited the farm in his hero's capacity.  I always kept well out of his way. Then, Frank, a blind boy moved into the village. He was seventeen, a tall boy,   quite nice looking, but hed been born blind.   I felt so sorry for him , and soon we became good friends.  I'd sit out on the mountain side on a summers evening with him, and describe every thing I could see. Frank enjoyed me doing this. He said I was his eyes.  The blue of the skies, the purple of the heather in the yellow gorse,    the dinkie traffic down below us on the road weaving through the valley, all these things I'd talk Frank through.   I enjoyed it as much as he did, made me feel wanted in a special way , although we spent a lot of time together, we never kissed, or held hands, unless I was guiding   him down some tricky path .   He loved the horses.  I'd help him up on to the horses back, and lead it around the field.   Frank was living life to the full through me.   He was a only child , and his mother was blind also.  I remember Frank with such happy memories.
        He did marry a local girl after a few years, and the great wonder was they had a baby that had perfect eye sight.   Life has many twists and turns,    but Frank deserved a good crack of the whip,  and I liked to think he had a lot of the whips cracking, as he went  along lifes path way.   Last I heard of him, he was teaching at a blind school.   I wonder if he remembers those summer evenings as well as i do.
MY HAY DAYS OF YOUTH
At the ripe old aged of sixteeen, i met Ted, or Edwin, as his name was.   Edwin came into my life at Woolworths.
It was a Saturday afternoon and I was with several friends shopping, with pictures afterwards.    Seven Brides for Seven Brothers was showing at the local picture house and I was going to see it.   One of my friends nudged me and said, "That boy over there is looking at you" I looked up, right into the eyes of Ted and whoosh I was smitten.
Ted was outside Woolworths, waiting for us to come out. He asked me where we were going, when i told him the pictures, he decided he'd like to see the film too. We ended up with two pork pies and two custard tarts, and sat side by side to watch Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, munching our pies and custard tarts.   On coming out the cinema, Ted insisted on taking me home.   I don't think he realised how far I had to walk after getting off the bus, and he often told me later, he'd missed his last bus home and had a three mile hike to his home.
I was soon seeing Ted two or three times a week, and was madly in love.
One thought about those days that still can make me laugh,was the afternoon we decided to go to the pictures, and one of my sisters decided to join us.    The three of us were walking down the valley to catch the bus into town and laughing and joking in the process.    Just as we reached the bus stop, the bus appeared, it was a double decker and I jumped on first to go upstairs. My sister was offering Ted a sweet out of a bag, he took one and followed her onto the bus.   Just as i reached the top of the stairs with my sister behind me, and Ted following. I heard him say, "What the hell is this ?"   He'd got a tooth she had been saving to go under her pillow, which had somehow fallen into the open sweet bag in her pocket and which Ted, without looking, had pushed into his mouth by mistake for a sweet.    That was enough to send me into peals of laughter, with my sister doubled up behind me, with her legs crossed . We couldn't move, and poor Ted was looking at us both with a look on his face which had turned a paler shade of green.    We never did forget that, and still my sister and I laugh at it to this day.    Needless to say, Ted was very careful afterwards if ever offered a sweet by my lot.
He used to say my family reminded him of the Hillie Billies on TV.
When i asked my mother one day, if he could sleep over that weekend, I was suprised that she said yes, but he would have to share a bed with Stephen, my brother, which was quite ok with Ted until he woke up early in the morning as Stephen was getting up.   "What's the matter, Steve?" asked Ted, "Nothing" Ted answered, "It's just my ring worm itching" poor Ted, he didn't know what to do, whether to risk going back to sleep and catching the dreaded ring worm or sit up for the rest of the night.   You see, a ring worm wasn't anything to us, living all our lives in close proximity with animals, it was just a natural thing to catch the odd ring worm, but to Ted who lived in town, the nearest thing he got to an animal was a dog or cat.   It was the plague or something quite close to that, to him, but it didn't deter him from continuing to court me.
CLIFF.
Now, Ted and I were an item, but, he was going into the army as a RAOC , and I wasn't very happy.    He was being posted to a place in Kidderminster, as I had never heard of the place, it might as well have been the other side of the world, but , he had made up his mind, and off he went.
So, back to the playing field I thought.   My next conquest was Cliff, now Cliff was in the army already, but stationied at Brecon, which wasn't far from me and he had a plus going for him, he had a motor bike.    Now, I don't know whether I liked him more than the bike, but I can tell you, I really loved the bike.
We used to go for rides every weekend and my mother would be a bag of nerves until I returned.   She always said, she really aged during the time I went out with Cliff. He was a Military Policeman, so that also was a plus sign.
It was about this time, that I discovered I could run and run very fast, so I took to entering sports competitions.    My parents and Cliff were delighted when I started winning a lot of events.    We talked about getting engaged, but I don't know when we did any courting, because I was for ever on the back of his motor cycle or running.   At other times I had to do chores on the farm. So, apart from the odd few kisses, I was still as pure as the driven snow, and the only time poor cliff tried the hot stuff, I told him, i'd tell my father on him.     I still had a lot of growing up to do it seemed.
Poor Cliff, he must have suffered a lot of frustration, but, funny, my mother told me years later, she had never worried about me getting into trouble, as it was called in those days.   I dont know whether that was a back handed compliment or a put downer, and still don't know to this day, but soon Cliff got fed up with being out with a nun and kicked me into touch.   Funny that, because I still sometimes think of him .