29-07-2018, 09:14 PM
8722
Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)
All this stuff concerning close relatives who have already gone to Glory made me think about my much missed & much loved dad.
MY DAD.forever young
My earliest memory of my father was pushing a wheelbarrow full of coal with him & probably getting in his way. This would have been when we moved out of my granny Maud’s house in Chestnut road, where we were lodgers, to nearby Warren avenue. I was 2 years old. The inside of the new address was painted dark brown. The only colour of paint available in the period 1939 & afterwards.
This was 1950. The war had been over for 4 years, my parents had been married for
3 years, times were hard. Dad worked for his old firm who saved his old job for him after he was demobbed from the RAF.
He had an infectious smile and a deep chesty laugh, caused by chain smoking. The laugh often soon turned into a choking chesty cough. He went bright red & worried us all for a few minutes. Then he’d sit up in “fathers chair” & putting his hands on his knees & sweeping them up to his chest announced to the room “How about a nice cup of tea”.
Back to my earliest memories, the next one was when I was 4 years old. Dad was a billposter & sometimes mum was working & he took me out with him in his noisy old black van, trundling around the lanes of Hampshire & the New Forest sticking up , mainly, notices of auctions. He also had to put up posters upon those enormous hoardings you still see on main roads.
He was wasted doing this work really. He was creative, an innovator, thinker, designer, artist & lots of other things too. He could build anything with his carpentry expertise. Metal work was easy for him too. He was a gifted water colourist.
and I miss him every day