Birthplace

61 years ago (in 1961) I was born in this house. And for the following 21 years it was my home. 

I  finished going through photos for #3 brother’s album this morning, and I found this one right at the back of the drawer. It has brought back a shedload of memories for me, so once I’d sent a scanned copy to my s-i-l I put it in a prominent spot in the kitchen/dining room. 

It was a fantastic place to be a child and I was taken by surprise at the deep emotion I felt when I came across the photo. There is a chunk of my heart well embedded in that brickwork.

The house is a Victorian semi which was more than big enough for us four kids, parents and a dog. It had heaps of bedrooms, a big playroom and a magical attic. All the rooms had open fires, which were the only heating until we added a few night storage heaters in strategic locations. It was never a warm house, but I don’t remember noticing the cold at the time.

The garden was an acre and a bit in size, and included a tennis court on the front lawn. Round the back was Dad’s domain: the huge veg garden, fruit cages, large greenhouse, orchard and potting sheds. 

The house is still there, although the garden disappeared under numerous little box houses after Mum and Dad sold it in 1983. I haven’t been back since it was sold. That has been a conscious decision because I prefer to keep the childhood memories undiluted.


Late edit: we lived in just the nearest half of this enormous building. Another family owned the half on the far side of the hedge.