On the main road towards Woodbridge, on the corner of Burkitt Road is an ordinary 3 bedroom semidetached house with pebble dashed walls. For me this was a very special house, this was Granny and Grandad's house! Let me take you back more than twenty years to how it was then, or at least, how I remember it.
Parking in Burkitt Road, you approached the house through the side gate. The back door was ahead and the garden extended to your right on two levels. At the very end of the garden was the garage which faced on to the road, full of all sorts of treasures including an old dolls pram, which Granny often used to dust off for me and let me push up the road taking various dolls for walks.
Grandad’s workbench was the length of the garage. The sewing box he made me with inlayed yew and hazel wood spelling out my initials, the box he made for my fife out of holly wood from the garden, and the sailing boat with real sails and rigging he made for John were lovingly constructed there.
Back down the garden, passed the greenhouse, and down the steps there was a second level of lawn, with stepping stones set into the grass. This was where the seesaw went up and down and (more importantly) round and round!
As we stepped in through the back door, the smell of fur and dog biscuits would greet us! All I can remember about the room we enter first is the large table in the middle covered with thick felt, the fridge freezer, and Smoky’s chair which was next to the door to the kitchen. Smoky, was a large, grey, very soft cat which seemed to be permanently asleep in this chair. Whilst Smoky’s soft and fluffy appearance made you reach to stroke her, a sharp set of claws lay in wait and would shoot out like knives if you came too close.
Beneath the kitchen sink, was the top loading washing machine, wheeled out on wash days into the centre of the kitchen with a large hose draining precariously into the sink, The patty pans lived in the cupboard under the sink, and many a day was spent decanting water and other essences of rose petal or dandelion leaf from one container to another and back again. Next to the sink was the larder and on the other wall, the free standing oven with the bread bin next to that. As a treat Granny would make us bacon fritters for breakfast, topped off by the Kelloggs mini selection pack to chose from. Other specialities included home-made lemonade, home-made ice lollys (made with plastic Tupperware lolly making kits) and of course Grandad’s home-made marmalades in flavours such as rhubarb and cinnamon, lemon and grapefruit. I also remember marvelling at the mincer, watching the meat squiggling out through the metal grid at the end into a bowl, as Granny turned the screw at the top tighter and tighter.
Though the kitchen door and on your right was the dining room, a good sized room, dominated by a large table with chairs, an ornate yew sideboard and a glass cabinet. The chairs were originally covered with very worn brown leather, although later Grandad recovered them with his own tapestries. Grandad was always one for taking his time carving the Sunday joint. I have strong memories of the table laiden with dishes of steaming hot food, John and I fiddling with the silver napkin rings whilst our stomachs slowly digested themselves from hunger, and Grandad sharpening the carver on the steel, one last time before starting to carve.
In the draws under the glass cabinet, Granny kept the cards, drawing paper and other small games and toys. My favourite ornament was two Japanese children sitting on a bench. John and I would always check whether they had had a quarrel, as seated one way round they were kissing, and the other they turned their heads from each other pouting. On the walls in this room were two large paintings in gilt frames, one a Garrett portrait, the other a large ship at sea.
Across the hall from the dining room, under the stairs, was the cloakroom. A very cold room, this being due to the window being permanently held open by a Heath-Robinson arrangement that Grandad had built to provide their later cat Sukey with an means of entry. Sukey was a small white ball of fur with sharp blue eyes. She was deaf, apparently very common in white cats and so long as she saw you coming she was very affectionate, purring loudly when tickled. I remember the fright I got once whilst sitting in this cold, cramped and fishy (due to Sukey’s saucer of Kitikat on the floor) room, when a loud scraping and scrabbling noise was followed by Sukey’s ejection through the hole in the window. She had just leapt from ground level to the window (evidently only just making it), saw me and equally startled, turned on a sixpence and shot out again!
The sitting room was next to the dining room. Warm and cosy, often with a roaring fire, this was where we spent our evenings. The fire, a Baxi back burner held much fascination for me. It was adorned with a full set of fire irons; poker, tongs, brush and pan. The coal scuttle was a wonderful dumpy copper one and a lovely brass teapot stand with legs sat beside the hearth. The ritual of lighting the fire was also performed daily, just the right combination of scrunched up newspaper, kindling and coal and nothing else was required - except for Grandad’s special fire encourager. A sheet of metal, with a wooden handle attached, which Grandad would hold over the hole in the fireplace so that no air could get in from the room. With the flue fully open, the air would be drawn screaming through the fire and up the chimney, breathing life into the dying embers. As the metal sheet was removed, flames could be seen leaping up the chimney as the fire roared hungrily beneath.
Above the fire was the fish eye mirror, which I loved to gaze into , trying to identify objects that had been distorted out of shape. The television was in the corner. Any children’s viewing would be interrupted at six for the news which would be watched in silence. After the news, Mastermind or University Challenge the television would appear to suffer a power failure as the picture popped and shrank to a small white dot before disappearing. It was several years before I realised that the plug was conveniently situated beside Grandads chair, I suppose this was an early forerunner of the remote control.
Instead, the evenings were packed full of games of the mind. Seated on the little wooden chair or on poofs, we would draw up to one of the many occasional tables and play Snap, Old Maid and Happy Families. The round table with the chess board marquetry was my favourite and not being one for chess, we would play Draughts, Dominos, Mahjong and Scrabble. Granny would always have a bag of wool or sewing at her feet or in her lap and usually managed to play in between knitting , crocheting or mending. When he had finished playing games with us, Grandad would play patience, read or reach behind his chair and whip out his tapestry frame with the latest piece of work for the dining room chairs already stretched out on it.
As we leave this happy scene, we head back into the hall and up the stairs. It is probably worth pointing out that in doing so we passed by the front door. For many years I don’t think I even realised that there was a front door, so seldom was it used. In fact, the area behind the door was really Polly’s territory. Polly, a white and grey Keeshond, would retreat to the hall, when the heat of the fire had finally penetrated her thick husky like coat, and lie guarding the door from postmen and paper boys. The fur on her uncurled tail had a knack of lying just where you needed to cross the hall to get upstairs, and like Smoky, Polly was not one to trifle with!
The large wooden hall clock was on the wall next to the stairs. Like a heart beat, the slow tick-tocking permeated every corner of the house. Chiming every quarter, half and hour, this was often the last thing you would hear as you went to sleep and the first sound in the morning.
The bathroom, at the end of the landing, always smelled of Granny’s cologne. Again not a particularly warm room, heated by the large electric wall heater, bathtimes where generally not lingered over. Although the large bath tray with an assortment of different pots and toys did provide some attraction when we were little.
Granny and Grandads bedroom was next to the bathroom. John and I would often join Granny and Grandad in their bed in the morning. I would usually opt for Granny's side of the bed, being careful to step over the tea tray on the floor - the kettle, teapot, milk jug, cups and engraved hexagonal pewter sugar bowl would all be brought up the previous evening ready for the early morning cuppa.
Mum and Dad would sleep in the room next door, and at the end of the landing, next to the stairs, was our room. The wooden bunks were on the right and a beautiful hexagonal bookcase cum table was in the middle of the room. Little Black Sambo, Squirrel Nutkin & Andy Pandy were firm favorites. The gas fire was on the left and John and I would draw straws each morning to see who would have to dash out from under their eiderdown to put the fire on, warming the room sufficiently for dressing in comfort. I would lie in the top bunk, listening to the sound of the birds in the ivy outside the window, which always sang so much louder than at home.
Anyway, its time for us to go, everyone is probably off to take Polly for a walk around the Yatch club. After all, “there’s enough blue in the sky to make a sailor a pair of trousers” - Its going to be a sunny day!