snippet 3

[artist]

That was more like it!

[catgate]

That takes me back to the days mentioned at the start of "LLT 006".

That was in the earlier 50s.

I was, for a few months, "in digs". I cost me £2:10s per week for five nights. The chap who I replaced as an inspector was also staying there due to his domestic changes. I am still in frequent contact with him and his wife, and we often have a laugh about it over half a century later, though at the time is did not seem hilariously funny.

We were staying with an old dear, and her Scotty dog, in part of ????? House. We each had a bedroom above the lounge. She was a very unhappy skinny woman who thought the sun shone out of her dog.

One Sunday night on arrival back at the place, about bedtime, I was greeted by Mrs. Woman with the happy news that there had been a burst in a water pipe in the roof space, just above my bed, and as a result a cistern full had soaked into my bedding and mattress. But I had not to worry because she had made up a bed for me in the lounge on a settee and I would be very comfortable.

I was just about to ask how long this was going to last when Brian arrived, and he got the story. Then she shot off to bed with her usual, "...and I have left your breakfasts ready."

Now these breakfasts were left as follows. There was a very large frying pan left on the top of the gas stove. In the frying pan were four rashers of bacon, and two eggs had been broken into the pan along with the bacon.

There were a few slices of bread and some margarine, and a teapot, some cups, some milk in a bottle, and sometimes there might be some sugar, and on occasions a little marmalade.

So....off to bed in the lounge for me, and upstairs as per norm. for Brian.

I had just managed to get into a position which was not to uncomfortable and was just "nodding off" when DING DONG DING DONG. It was a full Westminster chimes mantle piece abomination. It struck every quarter, all night. I can vouch for it not missing one appointment with destiny.

The following morning I was knackered, but went down to the factory to do my bit.

We returned in the evening to the usual evening offering. It was always based around a bit of stewing meat. It was amazing what Mrs. Woman could do with a bit of stewing meat and even more amazing how it was always the same, no matter how she tried to disguise the fact that she had given the dog the best bits of what she had bought and served us the remainder. It was a very happy little dog.

I was not a happy camper because having been brought up to respect other people's property, and leave it alone, no matter how many times I asked Mrs Woman to turn the clock on to "silent" it continued to keep me awake much of the night. She did say at one time she did not know how to do it and I was almost tempted to show her how to do it as a permanence, but I knew that if she valued her clock like she valued the stomach of her little dog I would be impoverished for years to come.

By the end of the week the plumber had worked his magic and just as I was getting a couple of hours of sleep per night I "went home" to sleep all the week end and I retuned to my "dry bedroom the following Friday night.

The rest of the pantomime went on as before.

[andsome]

That was more like it!

When we toured Devon and Cornwall in our twenties in our A35 van, we expected to pay 10/6to 12/6 per night for bed and breakfast. One night we were forced to pay 17/6, and were well choked off. Many of the bedrooms had a jug and bowl with cold water for a wash in the morning, baths were usually available for 6d or 1/-