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THASS
ANOTHER MUNDY MORNIN’
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| THE
BOY ALBIE |
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AS
I SIT HERE lost in the mists of thought – or current
lack of them – and looking forward to being ‘moved’,
editorially-speaking, in a mellow, fruitfulness sort of way,
I see it’s another of those ‘dull days before Christmas’
and start of yet another week!
Monday
morning, my ol’ bewties, has quite an earthshaking significance
for me – it’s wash day, a tradition held by past
generations in my dolly-wielding family and something I stick
to like squit to a furriner’s blankness.
Not
that I have to resort to stoking up the copper and stuffing
linen in the dolly-tub these days, oh no – I am blessed
with one of those new-fangled, ultra-programmable, Indescribable
Machines that takes the drudge out of Mondays – even
if the odd sock or two does fail to emerge from the drum of
cleanliness. Never mind, no doubt it’ll turn up in The
Wash some time or other!
I’ve
learned a thing or two, mind you: don’t ever do as I
did, on one occasion, and neatly fold the duvet cover, sheets
and pillowcases before putting them in the wash, then returning
to bed.
The
earth really did move for me! And, afore yew jump to nasturtiums,
I wuz on me own!
Rushing
downstairs, I cut into the kitchen and found the washing machine
duddering about all over the Marley tiles, its progress only
limited by the length of its ‘umbilical cords’!
That’ll larn me!
Being
the start of the week, I need to start thinking about my rumbling
stomach, which reminds me a similar noise has finished in
the kitchen so the front-loader must need unloading.
At
half-past eight on a Monday I always call in at the bakers
near the Maarkit Crorse for my usual order to see me through
the week.
“Kin
I hev foive grannut rolls, please, ” I politely ask the
attractive young lady ahind the counter.
“Dunt
yew mean granary?” she replies, giving me a knowing wink.
“Yis,”
I joke, “ but larst week’s wuz hard as rock, I nearly
brook a tooth onnen I did!”
“I
thought yars wuz loike staars,” she replied, putting
five rolls into a paper bag and giving that a twizzle, “ony
cum out at noight!”
The
same every Monday, this lively repartee, afore we cogitate
earth-shattering events.
“Done
yuh waashun, yit?” she asks.
“Yis,”
I reply, handing her a pound for the rolls.
“Ent
no dry out, there ent,” she quips. “Wearste a toime!”
“Hent
pegged out yit,” I assure her.
“I
kin see that,” she laughs, handing the bag of rolls,
“otherwise yew wunt be hare, would yuh?”
GREETINGS
FROM THE RUNTONS
I
DON’T KNOW if I told you but, this time last year, I
received a request from Mike Ashwell at the Seaview Caravan
Park in East Runton asking for a seasonal greeting in dialect
for a village Christmas card he was producing, to which the
Boy Colin was only too pleased to oblige.
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| A
SNOWY FELBRIGG ROAD IN EAST RUNTON |
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Well,
Mike was so pleased with last year’s card that he got
in touch with us again.
He
told FOND that, as the East Runton Christmas cards had been
so well received during 2010, he would be producing some for
West Runton as well this year, and could we come up with another
suitable greeting in dialect...!
And,
of course, the Boy Colin rose to the occasion again with this
verse:
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HOLY
TRINITY CHURCH, WEST RUNTON |
Yule
log bannin’ in the grearte
Presents
by the score,
Christmas cearke upon the plearte,
Dorn’t want fer nourthin’ more.
So, Merra Christmas evra-one,
That speshul toime is hare,
An’ arter that, we’ll wish yew orl,
The Happiest New Yare.
Mike
most kindly added a credit line to his Christmas cards this
year thanking the Boy Colin and FOND, and also included our
website address. So, hopefully, we may attract some new members
as the result. And, when I emailed him recently, Mike told
me the cards were selling extremely well and he needed to
have a reprint! Well done, Mike! And thanks to Boy Colin as
well, of course!
A
LADY’S MAID LETS US INTO A SECRET, OR TWO!
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| VERA
YOUNGMAN |
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VERA
YOUNGMAN is a remarkable lady, as we were about to discover
when she began her talk following the FOND AGM on Sunday 27
November.
In
an interview, conducted by Janet Woodhouse, Vera soon began
to regale the audience with accounts of her early days in
service – as we sat back and enjoyed ‘The Secrets
of a Lady’s Maid’!
“I
was born in Yaxham, near Dereham,” Vera began, “and
I went to the village school until I was fourteen when my
mother arranged for me to be apprenticed to Daisy Chapman
in Norwich, who was a seamstess.
“That
was supposed to be a five-year apprenticeship,” she continued,
“but, unknown to me, Mother had other ideas and had put
my name down to go ‘into service’ as a lady’s
maid.”
It
was in 1938, when, only sixteen, Vera attended an interview
for a position of lady’s maid and, a mere fortnight later,
a chaffeur-driven Bentley arrived at her home in Yaxham to
whisk her away to furrin parts!
“That
was to be the last time I would see my home in Yaxham for
many years!” she told us, “and I just cried and
cried and cried!”
This
was the first time Vera had ever been away from home and,
eventually, she arrived at Stragglethorpe Hall, in Lincolnshire
– the ‘stately home’ of Lieut-Col. John Leslie,
and his wife, Margaret.
“I
had to make dresses for Mrs Leslie – and alter them too,”
Vera continued, “make-do-and-mend as well. And also for
her daughter, Miss Lavinia, who was preparing for her ‘coming
out’ as a debutante.”
(Cue:
much laughter, as coming out means something different
these days!)
“I
also had to do their laundry and, apologies to the gentlemen
here today, attend to Miss Lavinia when she was required to
‘take to her bed for her monthly’!”
“Were
you allowed a few days in bed?” shouted someone
in the audience.
“Not
likely!” replied Vera, “I was just expected to carry
on!”
Vera
also had to ‘advise’ Lavinia on ‘what to wear’
each day, although, on one occasion she allowed Lavinia to
go to London ‘improperly dressed’ – without
nail varnish.
“I
was hauled over the coals for that!” she said. “They
din’t half mob me!”
Her
day started early, with two rings on a bell summoning her
to perform ‘a body massage for Mrs Leslie, followed by
a facial, then to run her bath’.
“I
really din’t know what I was doing,” Vera joked,
“I’d never heard of a massage or facial
before, let alone done it! But I must have got it right as
Mrs Leslie seemed happy with me!”
As
lady’s maid, Vera was normally on duty all day, every
day, with no time off.
“For
that,” she told the audience, “I received the princely
sum of £4/10s a month!”
Apart
from Stragglethorpe Hall, the Leslie’s had a ‘town
house’ in London (bombed in the war), and a summer ‘retreat’
at Brancaster, Norfolk, where they would spend four months.
“Appletree
Cottage it was called,” said Vera, “and a huge place,
nothing like a cottage!”
When
she was allowed an evening off, Vera would walk from Brancaster
to Fakenham to go to dances at the Corn Exchange. A long way,
commented someone in the audience.
“Yes,
I s’pose that was,” replied Vera, “but I never
had to walk back home!”
When
Lavinia went on visits Vera would go as her lady’s maid,
and still recalls those times well.
“We
went to Pinchinbrook castle,” she recalled, “also
Arundel – and Sandringham in winter, where we skated
on the frozen lake with the two Royal princesses!”
“That
all ended when I was told I was no longer ‘helping with
the war effort’,” Vera continued.
What
did she do next, Janet asked?
“I
became a baker’s roundsgirl in Shipdham – din’t
like that so I got myself the sack – then did a butcher’s
round. That was more like it!”
In
later life, finding herself on her own, Vera opened her house
in Yaxham to the homeless and over the years giving a home
to over 200 adults, unmarried mothers, and 194 homeless children.
Vera,
you really are a truly remarkable lady! Thank you!
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So,
there yew go, tergether – dew yew orl hev a werry Merry
Chrissmuss an’ a Happy new Yare!
Ashley
Gray (aka the Boy Albie) FOND website co-ordinator
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