four-floored building. The ground floor has the main info desk and
houses all the fiction, plus a children's area, with non-fiction on
the mezzanine above. On the first floor you will find the Reference
Library that holds all the things you'd want to look up, plus lots of
great reference librarians to help you with any little thing your
heart desires, plus where access to PinkSpots is the strongest. (This
is where I often can be found. Shorter hours than at home. Boo, it's
McD's for me!) Next up, on the 2nd floor, is a tea room/coffee shop,
with you know what and other munchies, also an exhibition room with a
permanent memorial to local sports figures who made it big, as well as
the Meeting Room. Floor Three houses the administrative offices for
library personnel, so we're not invited up there. Don't be fooled now
(as I was for a while): as you learned in first grade, 3 + 1 = 4!
My adventures began around 10:30 in the morning when I participated in
my first public community activity. It was coincidentally (you guessed
it!) at the library!! As part of the national Big History Project,
funded by the Heritage Lottery, the North East Lincolnshire Library
Council Service has been running a series of public reminiscence
sessions, hosted specifically for the hearing impaired and those
suffering from dementia to help them connect with perhaps
long-forgotten memories. Today's theme was the British Monarchy, also
home life during the 1950s ( just about the time when I was growing
up, so of particular interest to me). The invitation was to Enjoy a
trip down memory lane and come and share your memories with us. It was
held in the 2nd floor gallery/exhibition room. A collection of old
books, magazines and newspapers, highlighting the various public
activities of young queen Elizabeth back in the first years of her
reign, had been set out to create atmosphere. Memorabilia, including
an old radio and television set (both quietly playing vintage video
and audio footage), as well as various other household items that
would have been in use in the 50s, were also on display. Among them
were furniture set out like an old sitting room and kitchen,
including: a braided rug, a table with a formica-patterned top, an old
television housed in a Warwick cabinet, a magazine rack with old
copies of newspapers and magazines, and a Hoover duster (I loved
learning that this particular small vacuum model was given a so-called
"French" name, Dustette, to make it seem more intriguing, with the
idea that customers would be more apt to want to have it in their
homes.).
Having been offered coffee/ tea and biscuits we sat around a communal
table. Going around the circle in turn, the moderator helped extract
memories from us old biddies, with a couple gents thrown in for good
measure, by asking leading questions. It was fascinating!!!
I sat next to an elderly couple, Francis and George, the husband of
which was born the same year as mom, though their memories were very
different from what mom would have experienced growing up. What we had
in America was light years in advance of the circumstances found here.
This area in northeastern Lincolnshire was particularly rural and
poor. Made me feel pretty guilty as I realized that, growing up in
America during the fifties, my family had about every modern
convenience known to man (and we weren't well off by any stretch of
the imagination either), while most households here in this part of
the world still made do with outside toilets. Even others did not even
have heated running water or electricity in their home. One woman
remarked that she believed her grandparents had gone their entire
lives without ever owning a refrigerator --a major reason being their
skepticism of those newfangled contraptions!
A little more to add to the love story of Francis and George: Seems
she'd met him at the dance. She hadn't wanted to go but a friend told
her that so & so was bringing round a new guy, so she went. It was she
alone he had eyes for. Walked her all the way home after the dance,
and then all the way back again to his own home. A week later she
received a how've-ya-been-doin' letter from George in the mail. Their
fate was sealed. She waited for him during his term of service during
the war, and soon after that they'd gotten married. Been together ever
since -- celebrated their 66th wedding anniversary this past year.
One captivating bit of history George related hinged around the fact
that during the war, besides being called up for war duty as soldiers,
young men could also be called up, conscripted, to serve in the
nation's industries that supported the war effort. He remembers coming
home to a letter received in the post that day announcing that he was
now commanded to take his place as, what George termed, a Bevin boy –
named after Ernest Bevin, a former trade union official who was
Minister of Labour and National Service in the wartime coalition
government. This would have been when he was perhaps 18 years of age
or so, and prior to the time he and Francis were married. He remembers
he boarded a transport around 4:30 in the morning, that took you to
the mines and you stayed there till just before 4 in the afternoon, at
which time you were delivered back to your quarters where you received
a good hearty meal. During the day all you got was three little skimpy
fish sandwiches -- fish as in there's a fish in there on your roll.
(Very, very interesting. Who would have known this?! But I heard it
from George, and you learnt it from me.)
Some fun terminology I heard used this morning:
• The household was raised with this modus operandi -- FHB (meaning
family held back). Visitors were fed first and then the family got to
eat.
• Several children slept in one bed, "top to tail".
• A moonlight flit -- to avoid paying the rent and duck a nasty
confrontation with the landlord, the tenant packs up his stuff in the
middle of the night and has vanished by morning. I guess we still
have that today – with or without the catch phrase.
Made several new female friends today at the discussion – June & Sue.
I'd say they are both in their 70s. (Bumped into them again later,
leaving a pub where they'd just had lunch. They said if we'd known, we
would have invited you!) It is good to meet other single, retired
ladies like myself -- they have the time, AND inclination, to get
involved in a lot of things that earlier in their lives they didn't
have the time for. I had first engaged June in conversation when I
asked her during a break (Yes! A chance for more coffee and tea.) for
clarification on something she'd said. She was a sharp woman, and told
me a lot of interesting facts about this area of NE Lincolnshire. Most
people have lived in the vicinity for most of their lives. She gave me
her number as we parted. (Now if I can just figure out which of all
the numbers given are needed to place a call!)
Rosie -- though not of the riveter variety; rather, the librarian --
helped me get my new library card, thanks to Erin who sent me a letter
on cue. Yep, that's all it took (just like in America): a piece of
mail addressed to me, at my present address. Simple as that! I'm all
official now. I can take out up to 30 books at once, for three weeks
at a time. (Jenny, you'd be in ecstasy.) Very similar to back home,
also DVDs and videos, similar fees to us. Here's a really cool thing
that I get with MY card: an online resource from every library in the
UK – nelincs.gov.uk.libraries. And only I have the pin number. But
who's sharing? Eat your hearts out!
Spent the rest of my library day composing, editing and uploading my
adventures to this blog – for your reading pleasure, and also as a
lasting memory to remind me forever of this life-changing journey.
Which leaves us with the story of Malcolm and Maureen, who are
Sandra's next door neighbors, to the left as you step out over the
slate threshold. I'd say that they're approximately my age or so.
Malcolm is a lean man with a short, grey ponytail; Maureen, a fairly
typical-looking British woman of this vintage. I've met them both, and
they're both genuinely nice, gentle-natured. You'll recall about a
week ago that I mentioned I had turned to Malcolm, Sandra's "handy
around the house with odd jobs when you need it" neighbor, in great
desperation in regards to charging my computer; and Malcolm in turn
had turned to someone who knew more than he on the subject: enter
Michael.
It seems that through the years Malcolm has been known to have -- how
shall I put it delicately? -- a roving eye. Even through all the
wandering, Maureen stayed true to her vows, raised the family, held
the home together. For many years at her work she was co-workers with
Michael, had known each other for a good long time. At one point
Michael asked her if she wanted to go out for dinner. She answered no;
you know I'm not free. Sometime later, when he asked again, she said
yes. Things lead to things and eventually they started a relationship,
one built on companionship, a longtime friendship, and no doubt
loneliness – on both their parts.
Sandra told me quite soon after arriving that Michael was Maureen's
boyfriend, (knowing that I very well would be confused, what with
seeing Maureen first with one and then the other), and yes, Malcolm
was her husband. The thing is that she loves Malcolm, AND she loves
Michael, and amazingly is not forced to have to choose between them,
as neither man requires it of her. Now to complicate the story even
further, (and believe it or not, this is a true story!), Michael also
has a wife (don't know the name of this other spouse {also aware of
the circumstances them bind them together}, but could it possibly
begin with "m"?) and she also has a boyfriend. Maureen, for one, is
Catholic, so divorce is out of the question. And besides, she loves
them both; I'm guessing each in a different sense and for different
reasons. Doesn't want to let either of them go. (And obviously neither
of them wants to give up Maureen either.) So two men pass in and out
of her life -- in and out of the same house. If Malcolm is away,
Michael will come to stay for a while. Sometimes she goes on trips
with him. Sandra says if she sees them on the street, they are always
holding hands, very companionable like. I'm not exactly sure what to
make of this epitome of an open marriage. Are you?
Day ten's posting: R rated? No. Bawdy? Yes!
Photos (see above)
1- Grimsby Central Library
2 - message on toilet paper dispenser/women's loo/3rd stall/Central
Library, caption:
here's hoping your best friend never turns on you!
3- now showing at the local Caxton Theatre, probably not as
naughty as the advert leads you to believe, as the tamer poster
portrays a chorus line of ample, beckoning white-robed women. (Plot: a
group of ordinary women do something extraordinary and spark a global
phenomenon when they persuade one another to pose for a charity
calendar with a difference! Based on an intriguing true story,
Calendar Girls is quirky, poignant, and hilarious.) Though this may or
may not be your cup of tea, remember this is community theatre, not as
ribald as it promises, while at the same time take into account that
this is the country that brought us Benny Hill. You should just see
the material I have bumped into as I've flipped the channels on
afternoon talk shows and nighttime telly. Not lewd, just not censored.
It was an eye opener!
