Q is for Quiz

 

I enjoy going to quiz evenings and listening to quiz programmes on radio and television.  Note how I am steering clear of the plural!

We go to our local parochial hall/snooker club where the barman devises a quiz with a picture round, music round, general knowledge etc.  Each quiz has a theme and he loves to dress up as a fairy or  a hula girl.  His wife produces amazing food for us, so it's a great night out.

 Halloween

 

 

 Hawaii night

I'm rubbish at sports questions and modern pop music but, to be honest, we only go for the food and the company!

P is for Picture House

Hyde Park Picture House, Leeds

This independent cinema is 100 years old this year and has seen huge changes over that period; sound, colour, non-smoking, digital.  Although it has been refurbished, it still sports the old gas lights and a tour of the building revealed vintage telephones and Victorian sinks.  It is one of the few independent cinemas in the area, which means that it shows some really good films rather than the commercial blockbusters   

Our writing group had the opportunity of a tour of the building and we produced some pieces inspired by what we saw and learnt.  We were shown two short films, one of which was Conversation Piece http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tYsdGqPfhW8

 

Here is a piece I wrote based on this cinema about two cleaners in the late 40s/early 50s:

 

The Picture House

Armed with a bucket and damp cloth, Doris shuffled her big frame along the row, emptying the overflowing ashtrays then giving them a quick wipe.  She could hear coughing coming from above which was Violet tackling the same job upstairs. 

“Alright, love? She shouted up to the balcony, noting not for the first time the decorative flowers and foliage which festooned it.

“I’m knee deep in ice cream tubs and fag ends here,” came the reply.

Doris looked at the big, square clock with its enormous numbers on the wall.  She’d better get a move on.  The plush, red velvet curtains didn’t look so glamorous in the harsh lighting.  Years of smoke had taken their toll on them and on the ceiling with its fancy plaster flowers.  When she was first courting Billy, she thought the Hyde Park Picture House was the most romantic place in the world.  On a Saturday night, they would meet outside under the elegant lamp.  Bill would buy two tickets for the stalls at the kiosk and the uniformed usherette would find them seats near the back, the beam of her torch picking out other couples with the intention of a bit of hanky panky in the dark.  She couldn’t eat a Fry’s chocolate cream without thinking back to those times. 

“Find anything?” Violet shouted down, putting an end to her daydreaming. 

“Only a ha’penny and a woollen glove.  What about you?”

“Nothing to write home about; a couple of buttons and a boiled sweet.”

Sometimes there were rich pickings to be had; a sixpence, a pair of leather gloves and a silver ring had been left behind.  Finders, keepers was their motto; the benefit of doing the dirty tasks, that and the complimentary tickets they received.   Not that she and Billy still went to the pictures together.  He worked late shifts at the foundry and the house was full of children.  She wondered if her Susan would soon be courting on the back row.  She looked at the clock again.  Almost time to get back to the real world and collect the younger ones from school.

 

O is for Old Bottles

I am a collector of old bottles which once may have contained perfume, medicine, ink or fruit juice  and made from clear, green, blue or amber glass.  I began collecting them many years ago after finding my first bottle in an antique shop in Whitby.

Recently I learnt the reason for the medicine bottles being strange shapes with the word poison in raised letters.  This was because in the olden days before houses had lighting,  a bottle containing poison may have been picked up in error, thinking it contained water or another substance.

 

 



N is for Northumberland

 

 
 



Northumberland has magnificent skyscapes, beautiful landscapes and a huge expanse of coastline.  We usually visit in the Autumn.  You can never be sure what the weather will be like, but you are certain to get a lot of it.

  

M is for Memories and Mementoes

I have many memories of occasions, both happy and sad, and of places, smells and sights.  I have kept a few mementoes; it would be impossible and impractical to keep more.

Imagine my surprise when I received this in the post.

I had sent it to my friend over 50 years ago, when she passed her 11+examination.   Obviously, the message had been dictated by my mother, but the handwriting took me back.  I can’t claim to have such legible handwriting these days.  Sometimes I can’t even read the lists I make.

What memories and mementoes do you have?

L is for London Parks

 

 

I love a trip to London.  I really enjoy seeing the sights or maybe a show, but I am always wowed by the parks.  These parks always seem to offer good food and coffee.

 

Richmond Park

Last time I visited this park was when the ash cloud stopped all flights over London.  We could have been deep in the countryside rather than central London.

http://www.royalparks.org.uk/parks/richmond-park

 

Acton Park, which is well used by the residents, first opened to the public in 1888 to commemorate the Golden Jubilee of Queen Victoria. A dying Dutch Elm tree, one of the last in the borough, close to the main entrance has been transformed into a dramatic 28-foot carved statue called the Twilight Tree. http://www.ealing.gov.uk/info/200878/parks_in_ealing/651/acton_park

Brent River Park with its wildlife, walks and maze

http://www.london.gov.uk/priorities/environment/greening-london/improving-londons-parks-green-spaces/help-london-park/brent-river-park

Gunnersbury Park with its wild parrots and museum, which is housed in an early 19th century mansion, once home to the Rothschild family. Displays include local history, costume, carriages and temporary exhibitions of a variety of topics.  
http://www.hounslow.gov.uk/gunnersbury

K is for Kindertransport

 

My aunt came to the UK from Germany as a young girl on the Kindertransport after Kristallnacht to flee the Nazis.  She and her sister managed to escape but her parents and many other members of her family perished in the death camps.   The Germans kept meticulous records of the atrocities, so she knows when and where they were murdered.

 

Two neighbours were buying meat in the kosher butchers when the request came through to sponsor some of these children.   One lady, who already had three daughters agreed to take my aunt and her neighbour said she would take her sister for the duration of the war.  Can anyone imagine the trauma of parents sending off their children knowing they would never see them again?  Or imagine the feelings of the children arriving in a foreign country not realising the fate of their families and not speaking a word of English?  

For the first few months my aunt would receive letters from her parents, urging her to be a good girl, brush her hair and help in the house.  Before she left, the menfolk of the family had already been interviewed by the Gestapo and released;  they knew the writing was on the wall for them.  My aunt still has those letters along with some other memories of her family and village, which often occur in her dreams.

I was proud to accompany her to the Holocaust memorial service this year, joined by other camp survivors and their families.  The fact that these people have reached a grand old age and have been successful in their fields shows that, despite the holocaust, Hitler failed in his plan.  This group of people meet every month and many of them, including my aunt, go into schools and give talks to children who are the same age as they were at the time.  For years my aunt and others never mentioned the holocaust but, as they advance in years, they consider it of utmost importance that their story is told.

 Over the years, my aunt has returned to Teschenmoschel, the village where she was born.  On her first visit after the war, she found her former neighbours living in her house, still using their family cutlery stamped with M, being the initial of the family.  Did the villagers never question what had happened to their neighbours?

 Relatively recently she has corresponded and met up with a couple of old school friends, one of whom sent her a 2013 calendar of the regions showing the Jewish cemetery which still remains in the village, albeit with a picnic table alongside.

 Unfortunately, massacres are still occurring in many parts of the world today.