This is a Journal entry by You can call me TC

Spam!

Post 1

You can call me TC

With a view to putting together an obituary for my mother for the local paper, I have just re-read her "Memoir" which she wrote some years ago, covering her life up to when I was about 4 (she assumed that I would know what happened after that, I think)


Anyway - I thought I would share some of it. Maybe I'll save the rest for NaJoPoMo in November.

But for the time being, here is an excerpt, describing life in a girls' boarding school near Walton on Thames where she had been evacuated with the rest of the insurance company she worked for. They were twelve typists to a dormitory, and by this time (1941-42) there were practically no men left working in the company, and the girls were taking over the men's jobs. Outside working hours they had to find their own amusement - and they were very inventive!

The memoir is very matter-of-fact in tone, but my mother's humour twinkles through on occasions. She was about 21 at this time.

So here goes:

smiley - porkpiesmiley - porkpiesmiley - porkpiesmiley - porkpiesmiley - porkpie - No Spam smiley!

By this time with only girls left (and a few old men to keep an eye on us!) we were finding our entertainment more and more in the town. I had got to know Barbara in the Claims section and she became friendly with Eric who lived in the High Street. There were, of course, very few men around but there was a Royal Army Ordnance Corps billetted in Weybridge and they would come over to spend an evening dancing. As they were around for a few weeks, we got to know some of the regulars and found some really good dancers among them - even in their army boots!

Barbara and I did the refreshments at the dances, which consisted of tea or cold drinks and Spam sandwiches. Eric used to buy large Catering tins of Spam and we practically lived on this tasty addition to our diet, either in sandwiches or fried with bread or anything else that was available.

smiley - porkpiesmiley - porkpiesmiley - porkpiesmiley - porkpiesmiley - porkpie


And here's another gem from the same page:


smiley - donutsmiley - donutsmiley - donutsmiley - donut

We did manage to find some changes in the monotony, however, like finding a baker's shop in Hersham where they sold delicious doughnuts. They were so fatty and sugary that they were sold in greasproof bags.

smiley - donutsmiley - donutsmiley - donutsmiley - donut


Spam!

Post 2

Icy North

I travel through Weybridge, Walton and Hersham on my daily commute smiley - smiley I wonder if any of those places still exist (especially the doughnut shop) smiley - donut


Spam!

Post 3

paulh, vaccinated against the Omigod Variant

It's interesting that donuts would still be an attraction, but not Spam sandwiches. smiley - winkeye

(Maybe they were Greek donut shops, and Ancient Greece/grease could still be acquired.)

smiley - run


Spam!

Post 4

You can call me TC

She also mentions a pub in Hersham called The Hole In The Wall. I can't find anything about that on line. Maybe it has changed names. Any ideas?

The school they were billetted in was called Burwood Park. It was a listed building, and very imposing, by the looks of it. According to Wiki, it was re-opened after the war as a school for the deaf. The school closed in 1999 and was converted into flats.


Spam!

Post 5

You can call me TC

Paul - any sugar and fat were scarce during and after the war, so the doughnuts must have been a very unusual treat. She doesn't mention which kind of fat they were fried in.


Spam!

Post 6

paulh, vaccinated against the Omigod Variant

Good point.

I hadn't thought about what a luxury donuts would have been then. smiley - smiley


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