| Author |
 Topic  |
|
Doreen
hippies understudy
429 Posts
|
|
 Posted -
17/12/2007
:
22:32
|
Childhood memories of Doreen Gail Bancroft (nee Maisey)Originally written in spanish 1998.translacion by DoreenGail Bancroft.
BIRTH ANYBODY ELSE BORN IN A PUB?
Edited by - Doreen on 01/01/2008 11:45:22 PM
Dordygail 
always the one to make the best of things.
|
|
| Replies |
| Author |
|
|
Doreen
hippies understudy
429 Posts
|
|
Posted - 03/01/2008 : 01:44
Auntie violet told mother that she would be moving in a few weeks time,so there would be no one to look after me any more, and she knew no one that would look after me free of charge.
I went to the castle st primary school in Saffron walden essex quite a while ago now, as i am 54 years old.
It may sound to you like an extract fron a dickens novel, but
i was sent to school when i was 3 1/2 because of my mothers necesity to work in order to feed us.
I knew very well my age was,my big brother had taught me to count, so my mother had teach me to lie about it . she brain washed me into saying
that i was five years old, at that time the legal age for getting a place in a school was 5 to 7 not more or less.
she took me to the school , on the long walk to the school from Painters lodge i had decided that this age thing was a game, and i was piling on years
3 1/2 - 4 - 4 1/2 - 5 - 5 1/2 by the time i got to the school gates i was abot seven and a half ,as long as i didnt say my real age
it was ok .
Mother got through the interview, and being a bonny lass from birth i was acceptd as a 5 year old to start school imediately.
My first day at school was a disaster, i dont know if anybody remembers the headmasters wife mrs Herbert 75 years old , of the old school, she had a cane, a high backed dunce chair complete with sign saying so (later to become my second home), and the high pointed hat with a capital D on it also, all these things had gone out years before , and at the time corporal punishment was on its way to being abolished much to this schools dislike, it was the only school left in the town who still used it,and liberaly.
well back to mrs herbert,
well i was taken directly to her class.
she looked at me taking in every detail from top to toe, curling her nose up as if i had a bad smell, asked whats your name i answered
Doreen maisey, on hearing my sirname she screwed her top lip and narrowed her eyes saying.. oh... yessss, i know your brother , making it quite obvios
that she disliked him and me for being his sister, she continued : so just watch your step, i know who you are, SIT , THERE she shouted.
I cried a little, i had never encountered an adult like her before , that was my first experience of hate, i turned in desperate need to the only friend i had,
it was my pet caterpillar found that morning and put into my pocket for safe keeping, the child that sat next to me had an instant attack of histericks
screaming at the top of her voice , i said confused but its only a caterpillar, but that just her scream more.
Mrs herbert pulled me out in front of the class and slapped me several times on the legs leaving red weals with little spots as the blood tried to break through the skin.
I refused to kill the caterpillar or throw it in the bin, so i was sent to sit outside the class on the cold step all day as a punishment,
far from being a punishment for me it was a releif to be away from this mad woman.
There was a cloakroom in between the class and the outside door,and so as mrs Herbert wanted to know that you had not strayed from the step she gave you
a wooden block and hammer, it was like hamering wooden nails that came out the other side,then you turnrd it over and started again
this made a bit of a noise , and she could hear it throgh the two doors, if you stopped she came out and smacked you as i soon found out.
After a while i had got a good rythum up, and was quite happy singing hang down your head tom dooley to my improvised percussion instrument. i was always the one to make the best of things.
So, what for others would be a torture 4 hours of banging a block some times in the snow was for me a happy release, and spent more time out there banging than in class. i was also punished by having to spend a week in a class two years up, this was a special punishment made up just for me so i was 4 at the time ,and spent a week in the 8 years old class, was sent there so that i should learn the hard way how to grow up.
Of course you guessed i was delighted by this turn, made new friends in high places,and the teacher of this class was delighted with me.
My teacher was spitefull to me from the word go, she wasnt like that to all the class just the few chosen culprits but it became very clear that i was the favorite.
my whole infant school life from 3 to 7 was spent in classes where all the children were much older and what i was trying to learn was far over my head.
when i was 9 they found out my age and made me repeat a year but i was still a year younger than the rest.
Before my 8th birthday i was raped by the baby sitter a young man who was the son of a friend my mothers in birds farm lane,
because of his threats i never told anybody until i was 30.
And as a result i went into a deep depression and cried constantly , could not consentrate on any school work.
and was sent to a special mentally retarded class, where i continued crying for some time.
My mother was never informed about my problem with the school work ,or of my constant crying, or even that they had seen fit to send me to a
special class where you learned very little. she found ot by accident two years after.
Well this true story is all about how to end up with no educacion, i could tell many a more tale about my school years but this is quite long enough for now,
and i suppose im not the only one who has things to say about the subject , school?
thanks for reading me
Doreen
P. S if there are any spelling mistakes ...well you know why. |
Dordygail
always the one to make the best of things.  |
Stanley
Local Historian & Old Fart
36804 Posts
|
|
Posted - 03/01/2008 : 05:50
Keep going........ Pics are up on the site. Read the posting instructions I sent and follow exactly, no short cuts.
Stanley Challenger Graham
Barlick View
stanley at barnoldswick.freeserve.co.uk |
Doreen
hippies understudy
429 Posts
|
|
Posted - 03/01/2008 : 17:35
thanks a lot for posting the picks, just cant make head nor tail of posting instruccions, its a foreign language to me.
Dordygail
always the one to make the best of things. |
Doreen
hippies understudy
429 Posts
|
|
Posted - 03/01/2008 : 20:20
Just a little rest from the story, and some photos that could be of some interest because of their age,and content.
A Photograph made on a metal plaque of my grandfathers brother harry Weaver who died later in the first world war , and his sisters daisy , Pansy the other two names are forgotten.
Interesting attire for the beach, a bit heavy going to say the least.
It was probably taken in Brighton.
Dordygail
always the one to make the best of things. |
Doreen
hippies understudy
429 Posts
|
|
Posted - 03/01/2008 : 20:34
 The baby in this picture is my grandpa Lionel Weaver.
He is sitting between two of his aunts, it seems strange that these
beutifull weomen never married, but wars kill the menfolk off.
So grandpa , what with so many aunts and sisters was spoilt
by them , and was a weakly sick delicate kind of child, but that changed later.
Dordygail
always the one to make the best of things. |
Doreen
hippies understudy
429 Posts
|
|
Posted - 03/01/2008 : 20:50
Here he is Tall , and handsome, Captain Weaver with his men.
He is the one with the white shirt,
the war was so terrible that he never spoke of it.
i look at these faces ,and see the wearyness in their eyes.
Dordygail
always the one to make the best of things. |
Doreen
hippies understudy
429 Posts
|
|
Posted - 03/01/2008 : 21:03
 Grandma bought light ,and love to his life.
did you see the size of her waist?
Dordygail
always the one to make the best of things. |
softsuvner
|
Posted - 03/01/2008 : 21:19
Dordy
I never tire of old photos, working with them was what brought me to computers in the first place. The first time you see these old photos close up on a computer screen is when the people start to become real, less like shadows, and the First War photos can be the most moving of all.
One quick thing, your Brighton Beach photo is what is called a tintype, a process imported from the US and used from the 1870's up to the 1920's, often by seaside photographers. What you see is actually a negative fixed onto thin sheet iron which is coated with a black type of lacquer. To see what the original scene looked like, either reverse the image in your computer, or just view it in a mirror.
Malcolm
|
Doreen
hippies understudy
429 Posts
|
|
Posted - 03/01/2008 : 21:31
Thanks for the explicacion , these photos are true treasures for me, and more so being of my family,mother would have thrown them out ages ago , but i love them and have scanned everything she had,and on to CDs, id hate them to be lost.
Dordygail
always the one to make the best of things. |
Stanley
Local Historian & Old Fart
36804 Posts
|
|
Posted - 04/01/2008 : 08:13
Lovely pics and very rare. Yes, I did see the waist, it took many years of tight lacing to get that result and it makes you wonder what it did to her internal organs. No wonder bosoms used to heave! Nowhere else for pressure from the lungs to go!
Stanley Challenger Graham
Barlick View
stanley at barnoldswick.freeserve.co.uk |
Doreen
hippies understudy
429 Posts
|
|
Posted - 04/01/2008 : 08:28
I suppose the internal organs suffered, thats why weomem were always fainting, sound very romantic but it had more to do with not being able to breath properly.
Pregnancy has a similar effect over the organs, so perhaps they survived the pressure because in a way the female body was more prepared for it.
Dordygail
always the one to make the best of things. |
Doreen
hippies understudy
429 Posts
|
|
Posted - 06/01/2008 : 20:18
DREAMS
Once mother took us to the cinema.
it was probable that she had run over a rabbit the day before with the car, she had become an expert in these things, seeing that a free meal meant a small amount of the housekeeping could be used for something else , and not always a first necesity.
or perhaps it was somebodys birthday ,and grandpa had sent some money, whatever we had enough for the cheapest seats in one of the local flea pits, i say flea pits because everybody called them that because at one time it was a breeding ground for fleas.
But im glad to say that when i arrived there had been no fleas for many years, just a few patches of chewing gum here and there on some of the seats seats, for that reason you had to pass your hand over the seat before you sat down.
there were two cinemas in the town , one more expensive than the other,, i think it had to do with one having had a more recent bout of infestacion than the other.
They were showing Walt Disneys Fantasia,a wonderfull film, full of coluor, magic, classic music,dance,and little individual stories.it was something quite unique, and was to be my first film.
We had no television in those days so the effect a first visit to a cinema had over me was very profound.
The scene where the devil sucks up the souls in form of skeletons from the village graveyards,joined the nightmare where i was sucked through Daisys hole in the floor, luckily i never hit the road , i always woke up first.
yhe devil dream only lasted a few months , only to be replaced by the witch from Snowwhite,a bit to much for an impressionable 3 year old.
Then when i was a little older i saw King Kong,it broke my heart, how cruel they were to this enormouse adorable monkey,who had left the pretty lady on a ledge without hurting her ,why did evrybody hate him ?, and why did they kill him?, i just broke down ,and cried while all the other kids, wanted the airoplanes to kill the monster.
Dordygail
always the one to make the best of things. |
Doreen
hippies understudy
429 Posts
|
|
Posted - 08/01/2008 : 02:04
Dad, and Auntie
One day in the summertime, a man came to see us,he stayed in his car, he was nice i liked his face.
He seemed to be someone we knew, but i couldnt remember who he was.
He gave us a school satchel each,and asked us some questions,mother was not there,and peter was looking after me ,as he had done many times before, Peter was seven ,
he told the man that mum was not there, that she was never there at that time of the day because she worked, he also told him that he had made our tea as usual.
There was a butane gas ring on a shelf, Peter peeled potatoes ,and fried chips in a chip pan for us both , i remember standing at his side hungry waiting for them to be done, he stood on a box to be able to reach, there were no other adults for miles, and peter was my only companion , for years to come.
The man stayed only a few minutes, not wanting to be caught by mother when she came home.
Peter was in a strange mood when he went, i asked him who was that man?he was furios with me he pushed me over ,but did not answer untill i asked again , then he said in a trembling half wisper:
do you want to know who that man is?
!!THAT MAN IS MY DAD!!
Peter never showed emocions, but that day my God had cracked,
i had never seen his face like that before , never seen his eyes bright fighting back tears.
It all came back to me yes it was Dad i had seen so little of him as a baby ,and so much time had passed since the last time i saw him .
i felt bad , and guilty of treason, Peter was my only king, and had said that dad would come one day ,and take us away with him it was his dream.
I had failed him ,and Failed Dad, i was despicable.
I remember when a few months later Dad came to take us out for the day after the divorce was settled , we went to Linton to where Dad had to work another day as aucshioneer in a country market , there would be all sorts of animals, i collected feathers from under the cages, and then got my foot stuck right down a deep hole that was made to put horse ,and cattle pen posts in,it was very tightly stuck,and took a bit to free me , but eventually my shoe was unbuckled in the hole to set my foot free.
I had worn a pale summer dress , and had managed to get filthy,
the mucky water that was in the hole had splurted up when my foot went in.
The next visit With Dad was a complete weekend, and he took us to his house in Linton, It was pink, avery nice medievil house called chaundlers where he lived with Auntie Elizabeth, she was tall with fair hair, she had an aire of gentle ness, and peace, and always had very good manners, a very stable caracter.
The house was clean , absolutly hygienic as in a hospital but had a very pleasant atmosphere, there was the most beutifull kenilworth white long haired pussy cat called Sam, his full title being samuel peepsing pussy, i loved animals , and my one aim was to stroke him but i was not allowed to touch him , as he had been stoned by a gang of kids in the street when he was tiny , they broke his jaw , and he never had any front teeth afterwards, this was the moment that Auntie rescued him ,and adopted him, he was born the same year i was, later he would be a friend but at that time he was terrified of children.
Auntie was always very patient whtaever i did ,and always tried to explain things to me,she never had any children of her own,i suppose i was the nearest thing to a baby she would ever have in her charge.
Her family like my fathers family had bred horses, and she had been an equitacion teacher, perhaps this helped her to know how to treat children, she was always kind ,and had a good heart,and inteligent,a person that could be trusted.
Behind the house there was a long garden with stone walls, the floor was dense grass with dasys ,and buttercups,there i learnt how to make daisy chains lying in the sun with Sam at a safe distance , if i moved to much he would run away , and hide .
The first day that i stayed with auntie Elizabeth i was smelling the flowers in the garden, and a bug went up my nose, i sneezed it out, and my nose started bleeding profusely as it did some times, but it wouldnt stop, so auntie wrapped me up in a white bathtowel, and rushed me up to the top of the street to the doctor, he stopped the bleeding , and gave me a chocolate bounty bar, and said that i was not to sleep or drink for a couple of hours.
Outside the surgery i took abite out of the bounty bar , and spat it out imediatly, UGG!! i hated the desicrated coconut, and threw it in the waste bin on the wall.
this caused a problem for auntie, she was so hygienic, that she could never overcome the disgust of having to put her hand in the rubbish,so she left it there ,the offence worried her and afterwards had nightmares about ofended doctors, that had come out of the surgery to find their gift despised and in the bin at their door.
When we got home, i was very tired , and very thirsty, and whined for a drink.
finally when a reasonable time had passed auntie gave me a tot of milk just to calm my thirst,in a tiny glass that was nearly full , to make me think there was a lot.
I took one sip ,and fell asleep instantly dropping the glass of milk on the recently recovered pale green satin chaise lounge.
so as you see that day Auntie Elizabeth learnt a lot about little girls.
Dordygail
always the one to make the best of things. |
Stanley
Local Historian & Old Fart
36804 Posts
|
|
Posted - 08/01/2008 : 08:20
Wonderful stuff. Love the desicrated coconut..... You have had 600 hits Dot.... Keep going!
Stanley Challenger Graham
Barlick View
stanley at barnoldswick.freeserve.co.uk |
Doreen
hippies understudy
429 Posts
|
|
Posted - 08/01/2008 : 12:22
When Daddy was driving on the journey too and from home,
i used to sing songs, one after the other, i liked singing , there is something very good about opening your mouth ,and letting every tension gush out through the voice, our family had good lungs on them,we all had a strong constitucion, especially Dad he was very big ,and very square.
i asked Daddy to sing too, he had a very profound voice , the trouble is that he didnt have enough notes for most songs, but i loved hearing him sing a song that went ,I am a mole ,and i live in a hole, i,m a gnu ,and i live in a zoo, he also sang another one that was french,
for me quite exotic.
He was usually not encouraged to sing in public but i loved to hear him roar, it felt like the car shuddered when he did.
One day Auntie came with us, and i made Dad sing,She covered her ears ,and made an awfull face, and when he had finished his repertory, she sighed with releif, but i asked for a repetticion of the mole in the hole she shrieked NO!! please no more , if you sing again im getting out of the car and walking home.
Dads face changed , he had enjoyed himself singing ,but had forgotten the effect it had on grown ups,he said sorry ,and didnt sing any more.
The car games then became, remembering all the town names we passed, and detailes from the villages ,like this is long Melford where they make a special kind of green corderoy,
Daddy had a suit made out of this, very liberall at the time but distinguished.
Or the tiny prison where Dick Turpin was held many years ago a well loved robber who gave money to the poor after robbing the rich onthe highways mounted on black bess.
daddy was a mine of this sort of informacion,he loved history,he had an interest in antiques, not only because of his work.
He had in fact traced our family tree right back to 1066, ( sorry Harold)
Maisey was derrived from D,Mace, holder of the kings mace,after the conquest our French forbearer that came from another place on the french coast with a similar name was given lands in westmoreland hence the place called Marston Maisey.
Dordygail
always the one to make the best of things. |
|
|
|
|
BIRTH, any body else born in a pub?
