THE FRIDAY BLOG PAGE

THE FRIDAY BLOG PAGE

A CHILDHOOD MEMORY FROM THE ARCHIVES

THE GARDEN AT RICHMOND HILL

I must have been eight years old when we moved to Richmond Hill. Ration books were still a part of everyone’s life. But we were getting a little more variety so not all the garden was for growing vegetables as it had been at our garden in Warren road. There was a long

narrow border along one side of the path as you walked through the back gate and there were flowers. Pink thrift, smiling pansies in deep blues, and sweet violets. A few small shrubs were dotted here and there. The following spring there was a mass of snowdrops and bright golden crocus. It was rather shady being very close to a tallish wooden fence. That must have been the reason they had not been pulled out to make room for growing vegetables before we had arrived to live in the bottom half of the house that Mr and Mrs Pepper owned. In my mind’s eye, I can still see that delightful border that was to bring so many smiles into my life. This flower border went half the length of the house and ended at the edge of a metal frame used as a partition across half the garden. made from the springs of an old double bed attached to the fence at one side. Along this framework grew the tiny pink rose Dorothy Perkins. At the other end close to the path that went down the middle of our part of the garden was a circle of largish round white stones. Growing in the circle were the ever charming pale blue forget-me-nots. As I write I smile at the memory of the pinks and blues of that pretty patch.

My father kept a very nice garden and he loved every moment he spent in it. He was no longer as strong as the year before and got rather short of breath very quickly. He had so much patience that the job he would start in the garden would always be finished however long it took. That Summer we had runner beans, peas, carrots, beetroot and tomatoes. Most of these were grown from the seeds he had kept from the year before. Mr Pepper had left the fruit bushes in and we had a share of the black currants, gooseberries and my very favourite raspberries. It was a lovely warm summer that I remember so well. He grew cabbages, broccoli, and Brussels sprouts for the cooler months. The other side of the long concrete path down the centre of our part of the garden was for growing potatoes and with the help of Mr Pepper, they would harvested the potatoes which were to be share between our two families, these were all kept in the large shed underneath old sacks for the winter time. He also grew herbs and this was how my love of using herbs started with the thymes, sages, several types of mint and parsley. Be assured once the fresh herbs were finished, there would be plenty of dry herbs that he had carefully hung in small bunches to dry on the hanging clothes dryer in the scullery. When they were really well dried my job was to rub the herbs through a sieve and put them in small glass jars. I loved to watch as he took the onions that had been harvested a good few weeks before and were now ready to be plaited together, they would also hang in the scullery. My father just loved onions and would often slice them so thinly to have with Huntley and Palmer’s cream crackers, some times with a slice of cheese or meat. This was to be the last garden my father would work in, so the memories are of being old enough to help him in the garden; beginning to

understand the cycle and seasons of a garden that he taught me, they are very special memories in so many ways. Although to be honest growing vegetables was never some thing I enjoyed doing. And over many years I found so many ways to avoid that job as best I could.