This is a very 90s photo of my parents house- pre extension and conservatory- in fact, if you look closely you can even see our pet rabbit roaming the garden and the guineapigs. and that Silver Volvo that used to cut out if you stopped at traffic lights...
This house was my childhood home- and my parents have lived here for almost 40 years- as you can imagine, it's packed to the rafters with all kinds of things- some useful, some not so useful and all things that no-one can bare to part with.
Well, the time has come to part with them.
My parents have decided to move somewhere more convenient for my mum's work now that the power station has closed and my father has been made redundant.
This is everything I kept in the end- mostly books and folders and a dinner service- Which we don't have room for in our teeny weeny flat but we will have use for when we FINALLY buy a house (we have 10% of our £40,000 deposit.. something tells me we're going to be saving forever...).
It wasn't just Ray and I doing some sorting out- my dad found a very old box in the loft which had followed him from my Grannys house in Wantage when he moved out- this is "the shoe" and it used to sit on his desk.
It's full of dice and hooks and screws and washers and keys... like a man draw.
The story is that my cousin Hannah came to stay and had a strop and kicked one of her shoes off her foot and clean into the neighbours garden- from where it was not recovered.
The remaining Shoe became my fathers misc. item holder.
in his box he also had some knives he bought on a school trip to switzerland- the same trip where they have bottles of pop up a mountain- and they stood them in the snow to keep them cool- the kind of pop bottles with the pop caps- like the bottles you buy for making elderflower cordial.
He'd also kept millions of polaroid photos documenting my parents camping trips and family xmases.
In my boxes I found primary school work which my mother had kept- I photographed then recycled it as I really can't see my having a need for all of these- however, I would like to draw you attention to the 8 or 9 year old me's use of complex vocabulary. I always was a pretentious git. :P
This card was in my Dad's box- Mum and I made it and I remember colouring bits of it in- check out the photos of ray! haha
My very 70s mother...
now this rather glorious work of art is my bag from secondary school- I thought it had been chucked out years ago but it turns out my sister rescued, patched and used it long after I'd left home and moved to Wales for Uni.
I'm pretty proud of this still, although all the ribbons on the bottom where not always very convenient.
some more primary school art- this was year 4 or year 5- it's funny as I never thought I was arty at all... maybe I was just not as arty as other kids in my class...
I rather like his teeth! yr 2 straw art!
A rather glorious drawing of my beautiful family- I especially love my mums waistcoat and my fathers purple trousers and orange ballet pumps...
Collage backed on tin foil- I kept this one- I dunno why, I just rather liked it..
Ray and I both have a "baby box" in which mum put our baby blankets, comfort toys, first shoes, baby clothes made by relatives, christening gifts and anything which we might like as a keep sake as an adult- old school photos, old school uniforms, cards for our first birthdays and christmasses.... this is rachel and her cuddley blanket. it was well loved..
me wearing the flower tiara I wore when I was my aunts bridesmaid age 3. It doesn't fit quite the same now and its kinda squashed.
my baby shoes..
My shirt from manor school signed by the other kids.
this is a reading festival Barbie doll which Ray made for me for my 18th Birthday. Very cool. this is more of less the outfit I wore too!
This used to hang on the wall above my top-bunk bed- it's photos of my adventures- top left is me and ray on my Dad's lap, second left is me at Blackgang chine on the isle of wight- as is the top right with my friend oliver. bottom left me and ray- behaving ourselves- we always used to fight like cat and dog, next to that is me dressed as a princess for "what I want to be when I grow up day" at primary school and the me and Oliver in steventon park. and my very fetching 90s bumbag.
There were all my very favourite cuddly toys- I have saved them all from charity shop doom- the elephant I've had since I was born- it was quite a bit bigger than me when I was a baby, the two tortoises my Granny gave to me (they are names Alison and christopher- see, precocious...) the blue and red dinosaur my mum made for me- he is named steggy- the frog was from my Great Aunty Nu- he came from Whipsnade zoo and is named fleagle- god only knows why.. and the teddy bear I tried to steal from boots aged 2 when my Aunt left the push chair too close to a display of christmas toys. Apparently it was easier to buy it than persuade me to let it go.
no-one is truly sure of the chain of events which lead to my ownership of a rather expensive teddy bear.
It was a weird kind of weekend really- sorting the loft and the cupboards- I climbed the stairs and carried boxes back down in excess of 40 times - my own , personal step aerobics class- I was feeling the burn on Sunday.
Lots of bonding was done over items and stories told- I don't think you can ever get bored of hearing embarrassing stories- preferably about your siblings- it was really nice to spend a weekend together sorting things and reminiscing but in a way it was also quite sad- it's so strange to think that one day quite soon that house will be nothing to do with me anymore.
my things won't be in it, we won't have family dinners in the kitchen-with-sheep tiles.
I kinda feel nostalgic like that when I got to cardiff- If I go past the Brithdir, or Sanquahar street or Lady Margrets- you get to the pavement outside the door and it feels like you're home- like you can just turn your key in the door and go back in time.
I'd never moved house before I moved round cardiff with my housemates so it's a weird sensation for me, but times change and life moves on.
And whilst it's sad that my parents are moving, I am excited to see where they go to next - change can only be a good thing.
People often say they'd miss the memories if they moved- my Granny certainly used the phrase- but the memories are in the stories and conversations- and we are reminded of them by photos and objects and people- the house was just the stage. A very beautiful and cluttered stage. but just the setting all the same.
Country Life readers voted the landmark Britain's third worst eyesore in 2003
The control room disconnected Didcot A from the national grid