Hi Ken
Suddenly, my reply was deleted.
To start all over again. My late and wonderful wife was brought up in two old country houses o the Northumbrian Coast. One was at NORTH Sunderland Seahouses and the other was at Embleton which more or less marked the end of the Great Whinsill **** to mark what miles further West marked the Roman Wall of Hadrian. The places were full of all sorts of parffin lamps etc but because of the constrainsof the Court of Protection, I was unable o take away te paraffin weedburner. My electric one is 'naff'But 'Housty' brn had the roof held on with-- fish bones and in what had been the cesspit was the remains of her grandfather's Lagonda car. Christine was dentally on the crest of a wave and earlier was offered a little house of her own from 'The Lady of the Manor for nothing more than £148. She was talked out of it! But like you she did have one of the fascinating mouth blown meths blow lamps which she 'did' her orthodontic work.
But today came a Christmas e-mail from my Australian cousin who lives with a thousand or is it more cows in a place beloved of BBC comedians called WaggaWagga. Seriously. Its a place called Tumbarumba and for fun I christened one of my dinghies with the name.
. But poor Rod and the good people of the area have been rained out and burned out with- as Rod reports- 600 electricity posts were destroyed together with TV and phone masts and the joys of going around his supermarket with a shop lady and a torch and hand held calculator to pay cash at the end of the shop. His son in law farms on the boundary with Victoria and has been virtually wiped out with two houses gone and machinery destroyed.
Today my son called in for one of his Mercedes after collecting the Lotus and put the Mercedes SLK230 Kompressor back in my garage. Then he drove off to the comfort of getting both a new electric gas cooker and a dishwasher. Some people( mine) have no idea. I at least recall the throne in the back yard where the ashes were dusted and the midnight mechanics came to remove-- the night soil. I recall in the Wensleydale Valley- a FIVE seater divided by a drystone wall. 3 seats for us and 2 for the ladies with last week's newspaper when the company got boring!
My little grandchildren would have hysterics as my daughter when young was introduced by her mother on a French autoroute to a Turkish thing with starting blocks for feet( and a hole) and one pulled the handle and fleed before the tide came in.
I suddenly recalled the gaslamp at the end of the colliery row where I was born and the man on a bike with a ladder stopped at it to wind it upand change the gas mantle. Irecall the miners coming back from a shift and knocking the remains of the calcium carbide at the foot of the lamp and scurrying to put it in a glass lemonae bottle, urinating in to set it off and fire corks at each other.
I doubt that people will not believe such things. Incidentally Christine's dental surgery- complete with instruments of torture- is in the Beamish Museum.
Christine's childrens gas mask is in the car loft together with her Dad's 'tin hat' and service respirator.
My capbadge was donnated to a WAAF fighter Controller lady to wear on a respirator bag when she took her 'old man' back onto the D-Day beaches( probably for the last time)
Thinking of Hendon- and my beloved Squadron, there is now the Goldstar memorial at the Royal British Legion National Arboretum. It bears the names of all 'The bosses' includin 'Arhur'Daddy' Harrs or Bomber Harris to the rest of the Worls and later the bosses of the Squadron , some of whom trained on -- Gloster Meteors. Oh yes-- and one is still alive- writing books.
To keep the place in history it was endowed by Dr Christine Wennington Atkinson nee Alder in memory of Corporal Henry James Alder - and to all the Goldstars- past and precent.
Of course for the old and weary that still surviive there is 'The Seat' It is lovingly cleaned and the dedication is still there. The other seat is in the Masonic Hall i the Beamish Museum and again to a family member but tis time to the Architect who designed not only the hall but Newcastle Central Railway Station and many other buildings in Northumberland and durham.
Sadly, his most important work was to provide a tap at the end of each street that served Lord Armstrong's factories- along Scotswood Road along the banks that brought fresh drinking water where it had never existed before. A man with a lesson for us all