My mum Rene (Alice Irene Flitney née Harding) died in 1999. When my brother, sister and I went through her things we found an envelope full of old newspaper clippings and other bits and pieces. We looked through the papers and put the envelope away, but those yellowing pieces of paper keep whispering of half-forgotten times and places. Places like Butlers Cross, Stoke Mandeville, Aylesbury, West Wycombe, Little Kimble, Wendover, Ellesborough, Southcourt and Princes Risborough.
Thursday, 29 January 2015
Tuesday, 20 January 2015
I had to take a second look at the following image to work out just what the dog has in its mouth. I’m not sure this advert would persuade me to purchase Sphere oval-octo suspenders. I can’t think of anything more embarrassing than having the band stop playing while I search for a dropped suspender. I prefer my undergarments to be firmly fixed thank you, and by the way - if Sphere never fails why is my suspender on the floor?
The image is not signed, but I suspect it could be by G. E. Studdy as the dog looks very much like Bonzo.
In Turf accountancy, demand for an account with William Hill meant closing our books to new accounts, in war-time, owing to shortage of staff. Happily the position is changed and this is a personal invitation to you to enrol with William Hill.
Saturday, 10 January 2015
The little lad in front is Colin Smith (son of Aunt Jean & Uncle Graham)
The reception was not like wedding receptions of today with all the expense they incur and we managed to do it all very cheaply. The glasses and drink came from the local pub on the understanding that anything unused could be returned for a refund. Bentley Stores delivered lots of cakes, and we made egg, ham (best ham!) and corned beef sandwiches. We put out tables, covered with mum’s pretty embroidered tablecloths, plates of sandwiches and cakes on each table and everyone had these with either an alcoholic drink or a cup of tea.
The wedding cake was a wedding present from mum and dad, but we paid for everything else ourselves. Unfortunately, the cake was so hard it proved impossible to cut, the best we could do was pose for photographs with the uncut cake. Later mum and dad managed to hack some slices out of it to pass around to the guests. My granddad got very drunk and decided to walk off with half the presents, but very quickly got stopped in his tracks and told to put them back. He could not understand that we might need ten tea towels! My Godmother, Rebecca West, was out of the country but she sent us a cheque for £50.00 – a lot of money in those days.
Memories of Susan Poulter nee Flitney; Sue is my older sister (although she looks younger!)
/To be continued