![]() please empty your brain below |
I too remember laundry day on Mondays. We moved up to a yellow John Bloom twin tub washing machine. Very posh for those days!
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Is this the very first time...
dg interrupts: no |
Tue 23, took dg on his first bus today, the No.12 When he got home he logged it on his first spreadsheet
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My granddad was a registered alien - and we have his registration book showing where he was living and working over the 20 years after he landed in the UK. When my dad was born, he was working in Northern Ireland, and didn't arrive home for a good week after the birth. Bit of a bigger gap than me missing my son's birth because it happened in the 10 minutes while I was taking our daughter to nursery.
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Another dg blog confirming I should have kept a diary, but at 66 years it's probably a bit late to start now.
Although to my knowledge my mum never kept a diary, when clearing my dad's stuff my brother and I did find booklets entitled "My early days" where our mum had chronicled our progressive weights, teething, first smile etc. (On the back page the booklet had an advert for "Nurse Harvey" products alongside a photo of a baby clutching a very politically incorrect doll!) I too was 7lb 12oz! |
A fascinating insight into domestic life in the mid-1960s. No doubt there was already a fridge and the TV is mentioned so it would be interesting to know when the washing machine arrived - probably a twin tub, perhaps rented or on HP. The alternative was serious labour with a copper and washboard and mangel, or the launderette. Washing machines had been around since the 1940s but became popular from the 1960s into the 1970s.
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Such a lovely insight into domestic social history. The cleaning frenzy may well have been normal but might also have been a nesting instinct. I was trying to clean windows (first floor, outside) and made 64 portions of dinner in the two weeks before my first baby was born.
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In 1965, my dad worked in the steel industry in Sheffield and I think we must have been quite well off because we had a Bendix automatic washing machine bolted into the floor of the cellar. I've been told that I used to watch it as it tried to shake itself out of the floor.
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What a lovely level of detail to have about your first days. I got into researching my ancestry in my late 40s, and wish I had the foresight to ask my grandparents, parents, aunts and uncles when they were alive about their memories of their parents and grandparents. Now I am just piecing together a puzzle thanks to Church and government records.
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"Ah, I remember it well".
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As someone in their early 30s that has recently gone this process recently (having a child), this brought a tear to my eye. Maybe trite but seems that it was very different back then, but also exactly the same. Thanks to dgM for the insight.
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A lovely evocative account.
Fathers missing births because of health professionals wrong advice seems to be widespread. Then and now. |
Lovely post. But makes me worried about people reading my whingy angst filled journal after I die.
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Very sweet! Thanks dgM.
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A marvellous post; it all seems quite straightforward compared with the birth-pangs of the new Bow rounadabout! An adorable photo too.
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My mother spent her 33rd birthday in hospital giving birth to me. Unfortunately no diary was kept.
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I'll have to find the diary and read the entries for February 1967. Home birth so will be somewhat different, but more opportunities for cleaning.
Remember when on the way into hospital when dgN1 (dg's first nephew) about to be born thinking life would never be the same again. It hasn't but definitely been for the better. |
I don't know you, Mr Geezer, but this is incredibly moving somehow. Brings tears to my eyes.
Thanks for sharing such an incredible perspective down the years (this post and others). You are very much appreciated by this reader. |
It has lately occurred to me that the pool of people who knew me as a baby is now very small, and evaporating fast. A curious sensation.
Strength to DGD: The opening of Diana Athill's memoir Yesterday Morning describes her 92 year old mother remarking how absurd it was to have a daughter who was also an old woman. ‘Oh my God,’ she said, ‘Can I really have a daughter who is 70?’ Keep it up. |
What a wonderful birthday present left to you by your Mum. You can feel the love and excitement surrounding your imminent arrival.
In my Dad's close-knit East End community the notification of his birth in the 1930s went out to all the aunties and uncles ( and everyone else!) by way of my grandfather hanging either a tea towel (for a girl) or a newspaper (for a boy) in the front window!! |
I just found the telegram mentioned, with a stork on the front and a strip of tape inside sending 'Congratulations and Love' four hours after I was born.
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A lovely tribute to your mom to share her written memories of that time. I also kept notes of the events describing each of my four children's births. One I now carry in my purse in memory of my second son who died this past October of heart failure at the age of 46. Some of us know the value of a diary--none better than you, DG.
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Loved reading this and brought tears to my eyes. My mother also spent her 33rd birthday giving birth to me. Must have been a fashion in the 50's and 60's. LOL
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What a lovely post about your Birth & being 60. It is the first milestone that really hits you although 60 has been called the new 40. Make the most of it because 70 is quite different perspective.
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Thanks for this. Really enjoyable. I read the final sentence out to my wife and found myself choking up. Struck a chord or some such thing.
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Ah, the memory of those TV programmes (I was 10...). One of my jobs was to lay the coal fire: always spitting smuts once burning, so I'm not surprised at the amount of cleaning required.
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My earliest memory is sitting in my mum's lap as a 4 year old watching Val Doonican
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Lovely photo and a moving tribute to your mum.
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Very lucky of you to have such detailed records! My mum didn't keep a diary and never has really, but instead I have a cute bear-themed book which she filled in detailing my firsts (trip back home, first steps, etc...), and luckily for me, it was already the age of the digital camera (my parents bought one just before I was born), so plenty of photos!
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The end of this post made my eyes wet for some reason.
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Beautiful post but I’m screaming at DGD to ‘just do some cleaning!!’
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One of the most poignant posts I've ever read.
A beautiful tribute. I don't know my real mum, she was unmarried and so that was that. I was in a childrens' home on night one. |
A beautiful tribute to your mum.
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