Middleton

Re yesterday's blog -  out of the dim recesses of my ancient mind I dredged up the name  Middleton Home for the Blind.  I think it might have been more tan just one house and I think it might have been 42 Wantz Road.  I don't know who Middleton was or whether it is still there.   I know it was a jolly nice holiday.      

Maldon

I was feeling a bit sorry for myself when I remembered a lovely lady in her 70s who was totally blind and extremely  deaf. She could talk very well but to have a conversation with her one had to hold her hand and use the deaf and dumb alphabet.  She was Miss Annie Smith and lived in a residential home foe blind and partially blind people in Maldon, Essex.

I first met Miss Smith when I was 12 or 13.  My mother and I went to stay at the home for a fortnight's holiday.  The house was a small villa with a fairly large garden.  On either side of the paths round the garden was a railing at waist height so that a blind person could walk independently round  between the flower and vegetable beds. But the most exciting thing for me was the sight of three railway carriages in the garden.  Two of these were fitted up as bedrooms with twin beds while the third was a sitting room with easy chairs and a table on which were packs of Braille-marked playing cards and a box of large black dominoes with raised brass spots.  We were to sleep in one of the carriages and take our meals in the house.
Miss Smith and I had many conversations.  She had a great sense of humour.  It was Carnival Week and I told her about the floats and described the costumes.  She said no-one had told her about the Carnival.  When we left she gave me a present of a little gold cross and chain.

Now for one of my coincidences.  I was thinking about writing this blog and trying to remember the address.  I turned on the radio  and a man was talking  on "Word of Mouth  abot people who put messages in bottles and throw them into the sea.  In one bottle was found a message saying   "Send this message to my wife at 66 Wantz Road, Maldon, Essex".  It was as though a light had been switched on in my head!  I thought "That's it.  We stayed at 22 Wantz Road.  Well I'll be blowed!".

Thunder

After some very hot days I have been woken at night by great claps of thunder.  When I was small my mother would say "It is only the Angels having their coal delivered"  I imagined our coalman with his horse and cart up there sonewhere emptying the coal sacks.  It was my job to count the empty sacks as he threw them on to the cart when he brought our coal.
When we lived by the Thames we would watch strings of barges carrying coal going up the river to Nine Elms where at the plant of the Gas Light and Coke Company the gas would be extracted and the resulting coke  piled up.  This latter would be collected by boys as valuable fuel  for free.   They would fill old prams and soap boxes on wheels.  This all stopped when we started to use natural gas from the North Sea.

The Manor House

The  Manor House  stood opposite our house on the hill running down to the sea.  It somewhat belied its grand name as it had changed hands a few times and a part of its grounds had been sold off for housing.  At one time it was used by a London borough as a holiday home for Tower Hamlets residents.In the late sixties I remember it was full of young Italian students.  The Italian football team won a cup.  I don't think it was the World Cup.  It was, I think, the European Cup.  The youngsters came out in the garden shouting and cheering.  Somebody provided some music and they sang and danced for hours.  They were so excited.  At about this time we had acquired a rubber dingy.  Our children and their friends had great fun with it.   They were all strong swimmers but did not take the boat far from the beach.  My son and his friend would walk down the hill, single file, one behind the other balancing the boat upside down on their heads.  Once at the beach they would proceed to demonstrate their aquatic skills to a gaggle of admiring young Italian ladies.

Tea

Watching Mary Berry on TV making her delicious calorie-laden cakes for tea I was interested to see she went to Cornwall to the Tregothnan Estate where the first English tea is grown.  My tea expert friend from Tokyo sent me a present of this tea some time ago.  It was pleasantly aromatic, not unlike the best Ceylon tea grown in the Hill Country of Sri Lanka.

When Don and I visited Sri Lanka in the 1980s we stayed with Reginald and Prima on the coast in Galle.  It was extremely hot.  We all decided to go to Nurawa Eilya  (pronounced Nuralia( in the hills where the best tea is grown.  Before we set out by car Prima's son whispered to me that his mother had on a new sari.  It was beautiful, all pale blue and silver which we duly admired.    It was a beautiful drive.  We passed many large waterfalls under one of which a whole family was having a shower.  The Sri Lankans are very clean people and can be seen all along the roads washing themselves and their children and their clothes in a river.  (Though perhaps by now they have all got washing machines)

We stayed at a very luxurious hotel in Nuwara Eilya.  The first thing Prima did was to head off to the shops to buy herself a cardigan!  After the heat of Galle it was like an English March so we all dressed up to go to the Golf Club for dinner.