Books and memories...

The third and last early start of the weekend. A tad later though as The Man was going to give it a go getting to work by bus. I say was, because even though we had checked out the bus timetable and bus stop we had actually managed to look at the bus that was going in the wrong direction. The word definitely wasn’t bluebird I can tell you. Short version is, he retraced his route and went by train. It made him more than an hour late for work, but as it is a weekend it was OK.

So what did I do today all on my oneyo? Not much. Months ago I bought the latest Diana Gabaldone book. She has to be one of my favourite authors. I discovered the first book in the Jamie and Claire saga in PNG. Goodness that was a long time ago, we lived there from 1995 to 1998, but that as they say is another story. When I read a book I really do like to have good long go at it so today was the perfect opportunity. The ride in to work on the train is only about half an hour and nowhere near long enough for this sort of book. So, yes I had a nice couple of hours to get to grips with this latest tale. DG must have an amazing memory to churn out such detailed stories. This new one is a side story in the Lord John series. Like her other books this is a good long meaty tale. It involves the hero Jamie, who in my imagination is something of a cross between Billy Connolly and Sean Connery, and Lord John. Now, Lord John is an interesting character who has the hots for Jamie, much to Jamie’s disgust. The story is set against the potential uprising of Bonny Price Charlie’s army after his ignominious defeat. Enough said, don’t want to spoil it for anyone who might be going to read it.

After a good lengthy read I figured that I should actually make the most if the time and do what I had intended to do this weekend and that is to look at the budget. I was pleasantly surprised at the end of it to see that our spend hand been too bad this month.

So onto story time…

They lived on opposite sides of Beckton road. A cobbled street in Canning Town, in London’s East End. Mum’s parents at number 21 and Dad’s at 28. Most local residents worked on the nearby docks, The Thames Ironworks or perhaps The Beckton Gasworks. Granddad (maternal)was a Merchant Seaman, and Nan did her bit to support the family by doing domestic work and bar-maiding at the local Beckton Arms, conveniently situated just across the road, next to the fish shop and the baker. I think my other granddad worked on the docks..

 Beckton Road was lined with terrace houses. If you’ve ever seen Coronation Street, or the Eastenders, you’ll know what I mean. Two story brick houses, front doors opening straight onto the footpath. Probably built in the 1870-1890’s, many well past their use by date. At Number 21 the stairway went directly up from just inside the front door. When we visited houses like this in England we discovered that every stairway had 13 treads. I wonder if theirs did? The sash windows of the front rooms opened onto the street too, convenient for climbing in if you were locked out.

 I just love the story from Mum’s sister about my two Grans trying to get back into the house after a night out. I wish I knew where they’d been. Whatever it was that took them out, when they got back the door to number 28 was locked and Granddad had fallen very soundly asleep in his chair. They knocked and knocked and called and called, but couldn’t wake him up. The window of the front room was right there next to them “Let’s open it up and get in that way.” Well, they heaved and pushed and shoved but it wouldn’t budge A Salvation Army Officer walking past saw them struggling and helped them open the window and climb in. As the good Samaritan went on his way they heard him say, “Another soul saved”. Goodness knows what he thought they had been up to.