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Author: Pauline Baldock

Author: Baldock, Pauline

If I was given the choice of picking parents, I would have chosen the ones God gave me. The courage they showed was inspiring; they pulled together, laughed together and gave us standards to take my sisters and me through the difficulties encountered in life itself. The war years, although terrifying during our school days and after, somehow became a normal way of life. We had a different kind of safety. You could leave your doors open during the day and you could walk in the woods and play in fields, and what joy, coming home to the warmth of your home.

Even the seasons behaved themselves. When it snowed the snow would be half way up the front door and the fun and excitement of seeing it, Dad saying “look at this”, getting his shovel and digging a way out and along the path. The milk bottle would have the tops swollen with cream rising to a height and birds savouring the spoils and there was Jack Frost leaving his pattern on the windows, inside and out. Icicles hanging down from the gutter; the enormous snowman kitted out with Dad’s cap and scarf and bits of coal placed for eyes. People would scatter cinders to help cars get a grip, and summer, well - the sun never seemed to go in.

I hope you enjoy reading the true account of my memories. I found it very therapeutic in writing them all down. My original intention was for my children and extended family to have these memories written for them as these special stories would soon be lost in time. I wanted them to know of their beginnings.