Brown, who I worked with on the Delicatessen, and we sometimes went out drinking together. He had a zany sense of humour and would love dancing around and making silly noises when you least expected it. It sometimes took an amazing amount of self-control just to remain calm and sensible whilst serving customers. An old guy called Bill taught me how to break down a side of bacon and prepare it into joints or roll it for slicing. Bill retired in my first year, so it left me permanently boning, rolling, jointing and slicing bacon for the counters. It was hard work but I didn't mind. My immediate manager was a guy called Stuart Taylor, and he was pretty cool. He rarely lost his temper and if he did, he soon calmed down again, so work was never too stressful. It was nice to have a little money in my pocket for a change. I paid my lodge money and bought my cigarettes on a Friday when we were paid, and had about four pounds left for myself. I don't know how I managed it, but somehow out of that money, I started to save for my first foreign holiday. I saw an advert in one of Mum's periodicals for 10 days in Austria, Switzerland and Germany for £59. I sent off my deposit and banked a little each week to make sure I had enough saved for my adventure.In March 1974, I started a new job with Geo. Adams and Sons. They supplied pies and cooked meats to Keymarkets, and after a chat with their driver, who told me that Adams were opening a cooked meats factory at Frampton, about 4 miles out of town, I applied to them and secured a position as a factory butcher.
Keymarkets Store Manager tried to persuade me to stay by offering me a rise to £10 a week, but Adams starting pay was £25 a week. No contest!
The work was quite hard to start with, because I wasn't used to boning meat at speed, and in order to be paid the bonus scheme, we had to bone 9 shoulders and 11 legs of pork an hour. However, I soon got the hang of it, and it became easier. Before too long, I was asked if I wanted to work on the cooking side of the factory, and as it seemed more varied than simply boning meat all day, I accepted. I learned how to inject, cure, press, steam, boil, roast, and 'pot' all the different products, and sometimes worked on packing and pricing them too.
At Adams, I made friends with a guy called Dave Bell who was 10 years older than me, and he weighed 28 stones at aged 28. His wife Margaret was dying of cancer when I first got to know him, and after a few months, she passed away.
Dave had met and made friends with Sylvia, the daughter of the lady whose house he'd stayed with in London when he was visiting Margaret. They kept up a phone-to-phone relationship for a few months, and in that time, I used to go out drinking with him in Kirton, just to get him out of the house. He was a very funny guy, and once in the pub would become the centre of attention. He loved to dress up to go out, and would wear the smartest suits and gold jewellery. I guess people thought he was a Mafia 'heavy' or something rather than a cooking operative in a factory. If he was ever embarassed about his size, he never let it show, and would even make jokes about it. One of his party tricks was to bet someone a pint that he could put his own big toe in his mouth. People didn't believe he could do it, but once the challenge was on, he would throw off his shoe, and hoist his leg up until he held his toe between his teeth. With his free hand, he would beckon them to get his pint, and it usually ended in a round of applause. I don't have an old pic of him from when I knew him, but this was him later in life.
At Adams, I made friends with a guy called Dave Bell who was 10 years older than me, and he weighed 28 stones at aged 28. His wife Margaret was dying of cancer when I first got to know him, and after a few months, she passed away.
Dave had met and made friends with Sylvia, the daughter of the lady whose house he'd stayed with in London when he was visiting Margaret. They kept up a phone-to-phone relationship for a few months, and in that time, I used to go out drinking with him in Kirton, just to get him out of the house. He was a very funny guy, and once in the pub would become the centre of attention. He loved to dress up to go out, and would wear the smartest suits and gold jewellery. I guess people thought he was a Mafia 'heavy' or something rather than a cooking operative in a factory. If he was ever embarassed about his size, he never let it show, and would even make jokes about it. One of his party tricks was to bet someone a pint that he could put his own big toe in his mouth. People didn't believe he could do it, but once the challenge was on, he would throw off his shoe, and hoist his leg up until he held his toe between his teeth. With his free hand, he would beckon them to get his pint, and it usually ended in a round of applause. I don't have an old pic of him from when I knew him, but this was him later in life. 
He eventually moved to London and married Sylvia and took on her two kids, Tracey and Russell. He found a job at Wall's sausages and settled in to the flat in White City with his new found family. I visited them a few times after that, and I always got on famously with Sylvie. She was a great character, and loved to laugh. Sadly, the relationship didn't last, they split up, and some time after, Sylvia died of emphysema.Away from work, my Swiss holiday came along in September 1974. I'm sure that Dad would have liked to have gone too, but he and Mum had a wedding to pay for that year. 
Yes, Barbara and Pete had decided to tie the knot, so the plans went ahead, they married, and they settled into a house of their own in Pinchbeck. Family and friends from near and far came to the ceremony, and the trusty old van was loaded up with their wedding presents to transport to their new home.
On the first week in September , I travelled to Luton the night before my holiday was due to start and went out for a drink with Dave Rimmer who was now living there and working for Dan-Air as a trainee aircraft engineer. We caught up on stuff, and the next day he
took me to the airport for my flight. It was all very exciting, as I'd never flown in a commericial aeroplane before. After an uneventful bus-ride of a flight, we landed in Zurich. We boarded coaches to take us to our first hotel in Gersau, a tiny village alongside Lake Lucerne. That first night we rode over mountain roads in the most dramatic and exciting thunderstorm I had ever seen. 
We had a meal at the hotel, and were shown to our rooms. I went straight down to the lake and stood awestruck at the spectacle of the lightning turning night into day, and floodlighting the mountains.
The next morning, I awoke early to the sound of cowbells. I opened the shutters on my bedroom window, and saw the herds of cows in the distance, way above the village, making their way down for milking.
Never having seen a mountain before, I was totally blown away by the beauty of the landscape before me. The little houses with their pantiled rooves appearing slowly through the early morning mist was a joy to behold, and I have to admit that I was so overwhelmed by it all that tears came to my eyes. Well...I was young. And gay. So it's allowed.
Yes, Barbara and Pete had decided to tie the knot, so the plans went ahead, they married, and they settled into a house of their own in Pinchbeck. Family and friends from near and far came to the ceremony, and the trusty old van was loaded up with their wedding presents to transport to their new home.On the first week in September , I travelled to Luton the night before my holiday was due to start and went out for a drink with Dave Rimmer who was now living there and working for Dan-Air as a trainee aircraft engineer. We caught up on stuff, and the next day he
took me to the airport for my flight. It was all very exciting, as I'd never flown in a commericial aeroplane before. After an uneventful bus-ride of a flight, we landed in Zurich. We boarded coaches to take us to our first hotel in Gersau, a tiny village alongside Lake Lucerne. That first night we rode over mountain roads in the most dramatic and exciting thunderstorm I had ever seen. We had a meal at the hotel, and were shown to our rooms. I went straight down to the lake and stood awestruck at the spectacle of the lightning turning night into day, and floodlighting the mountains.The next morning, I awoke early to the sound of cowbells. I opened the shutters on my bedroom window, and saw the herds of cows in the distance, way above the village, making their way down for milking.
Never having seen a mountain before, I was totally blown away by the beauty of the landscape before me. The little houses with their pantiled rooves appearing slowly through the early morning mist was a joy to behold, and I have to admit that I was so overwhelmed by it all that tears came to my eyes. Well...I was young. And gay. So it's allowed. 
It was a fantastic holiday and left a lasting impression on me. Over the next ten days I visited St. Anton, Wildhaus, Vaduz, Damuls, Lucerne, Lake Zurich, Santis, Lake Constance and Munich, and travelled on coaches, boats, mountain trains and ski-lifts. 
I met some great people on the holiday, including a family from Brighton and three old gals who worked in Woolworth's in Shepherds Bush, London. They all tried to 'look after' me, because I was only 17 and travelling on my own.
I have loved the lakes and mountains ever since. If I could speak German and could find a job, I would move there tomorrow. The holiday came and went, and before long, Christmas 1974 was upon us. Family Christmasses were great fun at that time. Paul and Carol would usually get up early and wake the rest of us, and by 7am, we would all be downstairs surrounded in wrapping paper and smiling faces. 
Auntie Gertie and Uncle John would come round too, and there would be an hour of mayhem and laughter until it was all over. Auntie Gertie was very special to me. Because of family differences, my maternal grandmother was never around much during my childhood, but Auntie more than made up for it a thousand times over. She was a loving, caring person who was always running around after other people and helping them however she could. Because she nursed her ageing mother for years, Auntie Gertie didn't get married herself until she was 45 years old, but we were her surrogate children whenever Mum and Dad weren't around. Auntie would play with us, make clothes for us, bake her wonderful eccles cakes and sausage rolls for us, start preparing dinner while Mum was at work, help with the washing, gave us pocket money, reprimand us when we misbehaved, and loved us all as much as we loved her. I was grief-stricken when she died, and miss her still. She was one in a million. Christmas wouldn't have been the same without her and John around. 
Wrapping paper would be cleared away, new toys would be assembled and played with throughout the day, and we always had a huge Christmas dinner with all the trimmings. Fond memories.
Auntie Gertie and Uncle John would come round too, and there would be an hour of mayhem and laughter until it was all over. Auntie Gertie was very special to me. Because of family differences, my maternal grandmother was never around much during my childhood, but Auntie more than made up for it a thousand times over. She was a loving, caring person who was always running around after other people and helping them however she could. Because she nursed her ageing mother for years, Auntie Gertie didn't get married herself until she was 45 years old, but we were her surrogate children whenever Mum and Dad weren't around. Auntie would play with us, make clothes for us, bake her wonderful eccles cakes and sausage rolls for us, start preparing dinner while Mum was at work, help with the washing, gave us pocket money, reprimand us when we misbehaved, and loved us all as much as we loved her. I was grief-stricken when she died, and miss her still. She was one in a million. Christmas wouldn't have been the same without her and John around. Wrapping paper would be cleared away, new toys would be assembled and played with throughout the day, and we always had a huge Christmas dinner with all the trimmings. Fond memories.At around the age of 17 -18, I started sketching faces in my spare time. I guess I'd always liked drawing and painting, so it seemed a natural thing to do. The early efforts were nothing to write home about, but with practice at least one of two started to resemble the subjects in them. 
I'm sure I have thrown as many in the bin as those that I've kept, and looking at these sketches of Paul again, I know why!
I'm sure I have thrown as many in the bin as those that I've kept, and looking at these sketches of Paul again, I know why!1975 was I think the last time that the whole family holidayed together. Seven of us now with Pete, we all headed off to the Norfolk Broads for a week aboard 'Juliette I', a big old timber boat hired from Hoseasons.
It was a fun holiday, and we cruised around the Broads, stopping at Norwich and Yarmouth and several points in between. 
One day when we were moored in Yarmouth, we were about to have dinner when we noticed that the boat was starting to list. The tide drops 6 feet at Yarmouth, and our boat was beginning to hang on its ropes. 
Pete and I jumped out to loosen them off. I loosened my rope on the back end, keeping it looped around the post. Pete inadvertently took his front rope off altogether. The tide was rushing out at this time, and took the nose of the boat with it. The rear rope snapped in my hands. Dad rushed up on deck to see what was happening, but Juliette was already determined to head off out to sea, sideways! The power of the water pushed Juliette into the boat behind, crushing the large wooden rowboat that we were towing. Dad managed to get the engine started mid-river, and struggled to bring her back to the quay. A dredger working in the harbour managed to hook up the rowboat, but it was beyond repair. It was a scary time, but just proves how one small mistake can turn into something much worse. 
We were all shaken but unhurt, and apart from that incident, we all had a good holiday.
It was a fun holiday, and we cruised around the Broads, stopping at Norwich and Yarmouth and several points in between. One day when we were moored in Yarmouth, we were about to have dinner when we noticed that the boat was starting to list. The tide drops 6 feet at Yarmouth, and our boat was beginning to hang on its ropes. Pete and I jumped out to loosen them off. I loosened my rope on the back end, keeping it looped around the post. Pete inadvertently took his front rope off altogether. The tide was rushing out at this time, and took the nose of the boat with it. The rear rope snapped in my hands. Dad rushed up on deck to see what was happening, but Juliette was already determined to head off out to sea, sideways! The power of the water pushed Juliette into the boat behind, crushing the large wooden rowboat that we were towing. Dad managed to get the engine started mid-river, and struggled to bring her back to the quay. A dredger working in the harbour managed to hook up the rowboat, but it was beyond repair. It was a scary time, but just proves how one small mistake can turn into something much worse. We were all shaken but unhurt, and apart from that incident, we all had a good holiday.Dad started teaching me to drive in the van. It was a bit scary at times, 
because it had a column gear change which was not very positive, and if you didn't catch it just right, it could easily slip out of gear altogether, which meant coasting to the roadside where Dad would jump out in a panic, fiddle with something under the bonnet, and the gear lever would work again. It was a big old beast 
to trundle around in when you're learning to drive, but I soon got the hang of it, and before too long I was doing my three-point turns and parallel parking the same as if I were in a car. My main means of transport at this time was a Honda 50 motorbike.
It was actually little more than a moped, except that it had three gears and could reach a top speed of about 45 mph. It served me well and I 
used it every day to get to work at Adams. I took proper driving lessons with a chap called Major, who only lived about 8 houses down from us. The car was an Austin Allegro, and was the first and I
think only car to ever have a square steering wheel! He was a peculiar, pernickety sort of bloke who rarely smiled, and if he saw you crossing your hands on the wheel, he would smack the back of your hand. Weird. Anyway, after 8 lessons with him, I took my driving test in September 1975, and passed first time!
because it had a column gear change which was not very positive, and if you didn't catch it just right, it could easily slip out of gear altogether, which meant coasting to the roadside where Dad would jump out in a panic, fiddle with something under the bonnet, and the gear lever would work again. It was a big old beast 
to trundle around in when you're learning to drive, but I soon got the hang of it, and before too long I was doing my three-point turns and parallel parking the same as if I were in a car. My main means of transport at this time was a Honda 50 motorbike. It was actually little more than a moped, except that it had three gears and could reach a top speed of about 45 mph. It served me well and I 
used it every day to get to work at Adams. I took proper driving lessons with a chap called Major, who only lived about 8 houses down from us. The car was an Austin Allegro, and was the first and I
think only car to ever have a square steering wheel! He was a peculiar, pernickety sort of bloke who rarely smiled, and if he saw you crossing your hands on the wheel, he would smack the back of your hand. Weird. Anyway, after 8 lessons with him, I took my driving test in September 1975, and passed first time! 
No comments:
Post a Comment