Wednesday, 30 May 2012

Firmount and the birthday cake

We moved to Firmount, in Fir Ave Bantry Bay when I must've been about three or four.  John and I were both born when we were living in Seacliffe, Saunders Road, Bantry Bay.
We first lived downstairs, in the corner flat, at the back end of the courtyard, in flat number 1.   Then we moved upstairs, to a bigger flat, and a flat that I remember as being much brighter and lighter.  That was number 6. 
I remember the flats as having this big courtyard in the middle of the block.  All us children would play in there.  It must've been very loud and noisy because it must've contained and magnified the sound tremendously.  There was also a lawn in the front, and a tar carpark and parking for the cars under the building.  Across from the flats were tennis courts belonging to the Sea Point Lawn Tennis Club.  And behind the tennis courts they were building an enormous block of flats - we used to play there, in amongst the construction stuff - especially on the heaps of building sand.
We left Firmount to go to live in our first ever own house in Camps Bay when I was finishing Std 2.  So we were living in Firmount for quite a few years.   I remember the neighbour in number 7 putting his head through the kitchen window (which faced the courtyard corridor) every evening, asking my mom what's for supper tonight Lorraine?  I think he drove GG mad!
When living downstairs, in no 1 - I had a birthday party - the last one I ever had!  GG made the cake using bread flour instead of cake flour, so it was as heavy as lead and quite awful.  It had blue icing.   Why blue, I dont know.  I mean I was the only daughter!  Probably only had blue food colouring!  She swore never to make another birthday cake for either of us ever again.  In later years her baking skills improved.  She was able to bake quite a successful cake in her old age.  :)
Mairz, this is specially for Simon - being Sea Point, most of our neighbours were Jewish. 
And I remember distinctly the servant's quarters that were on the roof of the flats.  There was a dark flight
of stairs and we would hear their music in the afternoons coming from there during their time off.  We never had a servant.  We would dare each other to go up there, like it was some scary place.  I really wish I'd taken more notice of stuff!
We never had a car then.  Would walk or take the bus. My dad would walk us to school in the mornings, and then continue on down to the 'terminus' (that's what it was called - the terminus where the busses started from) to catch his bus to town.  I even remember we still had trams on the Sea Point route.

Poor Julie

I had this really pretty doll.  I called her Julie.  She was quite large, I guess the size of a 3 or 4 month old baby.  Her legs and arms moved and her eyes, with beautiful long lashes, opened and closed when you moved her.  She was made from softish plastic stuff.  Quite revolutionary for then, because most dolls were still made from very hard plastic.
John and I shared a bedroom.  We were living in Fairmount, Fir Ave - a block of flats in Bantry Bay.  We were downstairs, on the ground floor, at the back corner of the courtyard, Number 1.  I remember the flat as being dark. 
Anyway.  John decided to use Julie as target practice with the bow and arrow he had fashioned from two pencil crayons (the arrows) and a long ruler with an elastic band became the bow.  He propped Julie up on my bed, and calmly took aim.  He shot both her eyes out!  Well, alright, not totally 'out' - but they never worked properly again.  I was really upset because Julie was very important to me!

Tuesday, 29 May 2012

Those ridiculous one-day-holidays

Granpa Greyton always used to say it was because we couldn't leave Thomas alone for more than one night.  Thomas being the cat.  He was just a street cat.  Dark brown with lighter brown tabby-like stripes.  He was supposed to be John's cat.  I can't remember when we got Thomas.  But that's a whole 'nother story.  Let's stick, at the moment, to our one-day-holidays.
They started when we were living in Camps Bay, and Auntie Jean used to come with us sometimes as well.
We would all climb into the family VW Beetle - GG was a die-hard VW man.  That's why my first car, and John's, were VW's!
Anyway, once again, I digress. 
We always used to go to the most out of the way little places - I can proudly say I've seen Fraserburg, Loxton, Carnarvon.  I've seen Graaf Reinet and Middelburg (Cape).  I've even been to Peddie. And Ladismith and Barrydale too.
We used to spend the one night in a hotel.  In those days it was smart - dinner in the dining room.  Full waiter service.  Always "cream of " something soup because it was thick and therefore more difficult for the waiter to slop all over the tablecloth.
John and I in one room.  Mommy and Daddy in another.  John and I always used to fight.  Physically.  I remember grabbing my weapon of choice - my hairbrush and laying into him.  Nobody to tell us to stop, because Mommy and Daddy were far away along a (usually) dark, dank corridor.
The hotels were always called The Royal, or The Grand. 
So - a day of sightseeing.  Well, as much of a sight the barren Karroo could be.  Then a really nice meal in the hotel.  Bed with lovely starched hotel-type sheets then hotel breakfast in the morning, and home James, but just via a different route.
Holiday done and dusted.  And Thomas happy because he was only left alone for one night!

Let's start at the very beginning ..........

It came upon me early this morning when I was lying awake and thinking of my young days and of my childhood.
Whilst thinking of Granny and Granpa Greyton I realised that there is so much about their lives and their young days that I know nothing about - and of course, will now never know.
So, I have decided to leave you these memories of my life. 
The memories won't be in chronological order.  They'll be as I go along the road of remembering.  It should be fun.
It could be funny.  It could be sad. Maybe a tear in the corner of the eye type sad and lump in throat stuff.  Let's see.
Some I've already shared with you, but I don't want you to forget them, so, if you've heard it before, humour me.