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About Owd Fred's Blog

 

These are my own memories of my younger days and the tales that used to be told around the kitchen table, of the hard times in the 1920`s and onwards.

Of how father was brought up, and how he met mother and of her school days. How he started farming with one sow and exchanged it for his first cow, then got the tenancy of Brook House Farm Doxey. How we moved to Beeches Farm  in 1942.

My own school days, with my three brothers, and the time we spent watching the blacksmith and the wheelwright on our way home from school. How we looked forward to the threshing machine coming pulled by a steamer.

I try to describe some of the older people and the houses they lived in. The old wells  and village pumps that were in regular use until mains water came into the village 

                                         The Country Side In Verse.

Poems and verses from my own life experiences. Centred round my home, the farm, the village and all the characters that lived and worked in the village when I was growing up.

 

                                        I Record My Memories

Most of the young men of the village had been called up to the armed services , so it was all the older generation of men working on the farms and on the estate.

As we got to the age of ‘call up' the war had ended and younger farm lads could be exempted, and father had a lot of papers to sign just to keep us lads at home and prove there  was enough work for all of us on the farm.  

 

I record my memories, of where I lived my life,
People who lived and worked here, all about the strife,
The ones that moulded me, from very early age,
Learning how to cope with life, recorded on this page.

I started with my mother, and all the things she did,
Father's next on how to work, and earn an honest quid,
Then it's all the neighbours, of how they influenced me,
Its on to school and educate, to use my head you see.

Everyone's an influence, in a small village like ours,
Tell you tales when they were young, they went on for hours,
Some were porkies I've no doubt, but non of them were lies,
Stories told and past down, told before they meet demise.

                                 ______

Owd Fred