Mothering Sunday.

It's Mothering Sunday here in the UK. It is the fourth Sunday in Lent - the Sunday when people traditionally returned to their mother church - and so usually to the one that the rest of their family worshipped at, or were also returning to for the day - in this way it became a day of family re-union, a day for young people who had left home to work to see their own mothers as well as their mother church. Celebrated now in much the same way as the more recently introduced Mothers' Day in the US and much of the rest of the world.

Last year I was bemoaning the fact that it had never occurred to my husband to arrange for us to go out to lunch like so many other families. He obviously didn't think I was serious about being upset about this, because I didn't get to go out this year either, he has probably forgotten. There is no point in sitting and getting upset over it - he cannot see what it has to do with him, and no amount of pointing out on my behalf has been any use over the last seventeen years. Next year will be too late - as our daughter will not be here to celebrate it with me.

However, we had a no cook lunch - everyone made their own sandwiches, and D-d and I sat on the settee and ate M&S curries for tea, so no major effort was required! D-d bought me flowers, and chocolate ginger (which I love!), and made me what she describes as a completely OTT card, with flowers and 3D butterflies.

We had a nice Mothering Sunday service at Church - and at the end of it we got almost the entire congregation together and took a group photograph. This is for our Church web-site, which I am involved with putting together - I'll link to it when we finally get up and running!

Anyway - just in case S2C had thought about us going out for lunch, and was keeping it as a surprise for me(!), D-d and I took my Mum out for lunch yesterday, and so, as it is Mothers' Day, I thought I would show you another of my family photos - this time, of my Mother.

My mother was quite a beauty in her day -

This photo was taken when she was about twenty two or three, by my Dad, I think.

My Mum was born in January 1927, and spent long periods of her childhood in hospital, with quite severe inner-ear infections - no antibiotics then. She has had ear-drum damage ever since, but her right ear worked pretty well, so the hearing loss on the other side was not obvious to anyone. The long months in hospital mean that her formal schooling was patchy, and so she failed her exams to go to the Grammar school, and stayed at 'The Board School' until she left the Christmas before her 14th birthday. (The Board School was the school set up by the Board of Education to cover the compulsary schooling of all five to fourteen year olds.)

At fourteen she was a 'mothers help' looking after three small children - and we hear people now comment that 'children grow up too fast these days'!!

By sixteen she was working as a counter assistant in a local grocers shop, alongside a slightly older young woman, who was to be her constant companion in mischief until they both married, and even now her and Marjory stay in touch. This was of course in 1943 - rationing at its height, a brother away in the war, and many of her own generation of young men also leaving the island to join up. However, Mum and Marjory were not short of social activities, because there were a lot of airmen stationed on the island during the war! From the age of 16, when she was deemed old enough to go to dances, Mum was never short of dance partners. (There was still a UK air-force base on the island after the war - until 1962.)

She was talking about the social whirl of her youth a few months ago - and had D-d and I in stitches laughing. She would finish work about 6pm, and both her and Marjory would dash home, change out of their work clothes, have a quick wash (no bathroom in either house), put on their glad-rags and dash out again. There were dances held in Ramsey, where they lived, or sometimes there would be transport to Jurby or Andreas, the nearest RAF bases. On one occasion on a night out at Jurby, the bus waited for Marjory and her beau, and when they arrived, as Marjory got on board, the airman said 'You nearly forgot these', and handed her what turned out to be her cami-knickers! Mum said one shoulder strap had broken when she was dancing, then the other broke later under the strain of doing all the work alone - so the entire garment had dropped, and it had been easier for Marj to take them off to aid her flight for the bus. My mother believed her - so why should we doubt it?

Actually she was commenting on how innocent it had all been - and when you realise that she was younger then than my daughter is now - I think, at least for her, it probably was.

Once the black-out ended they extended their social life to Douglas - and the dash to get washed and changed became even more hectic as the coach to Douglas left about 6.30, to get them there by about 7.30. She said you ran out, still fastening things, clutching a sandwich, and hoping you hadn't forgotten anything important. She did on at least one occasion though. She said one spring evening, as she walked from the coach to the nearest dance hall, she thought 'funny - it's a bit chilly,' and realised that she had forgotten her knickers! She had taken her work ones off, and forgotten her clean ones - she says she was very careful to keep her hand on her skirt all evening, and not do any dances that might make it fly upwards!

Mind you, on another occasion she did a 'Marjory' herself - knickers in those days, at least smart ones, were silk (often parachute silk) with a buttoned waistband, and her button came off, and the knickers dropped down to her ankles. She says she just scooped them up, put them in her handbag, and walked carefully for the rest of the evening! Thank goodness for M&S knickers, say I! Far fewer underwear disasters these days!

In later years my Mum was a cook - and when we were visiting her yesterday, although D-d and I took cake, Mum had made scones - and even at 79 she is still game to try something new - they had preserved ginger in them, rather than dried fruit - and I must try it myself, because they were very, very nice!

Current Mood: calm
Current Music: Something fishy on the TV!

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From:

gillo

Lovely stories. My Mum's about eighteen months older, and also worked for a grocer's shop during the war. She too has tales to tell of airmen - they even had some billeted in the house. The war years were grim, of course, but it's clear young people found lots of ways to have fun - even, perhaps, a little extra freedom.

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Mothering Sunday.

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