How I remember stitches when as a child growing up. My brother's mended clothes were worn by me when he grew out of them. Yes, this is a story of the war and vivid is my memory of those days. Nobody is proud of poverty but then all suffered. Mum had to stitch our worn clothes together. Dad repaired our shoes holes as we couldn't afford a tradesman to do it.
My brother was lucky he was older so most of the new clothes went to him first and then handed down to me as he grew out of them so I benefitted by looking pretty ordinary! If you wore something new you might be teased or pushed over into a puddle so that you looked like the rest of us...dirty and poor as church mice.
My brother didn't like me. He thought I had stolen mother's breasts from him when I was born. I was five before he let me play with him and his mates in our street. Still he kept the upper hand by pushing me in the stinging nettles on the way home to show me who was boss.
However by that time I was making my own friends at school so we tended to play separately there so I was bullied by kids my own age...which seemed fair! Boys are adventurous and I was better at climbing trees than my brother; so I could shimmy up a tree and grin stupidly down at him, so he threw stones at me.
Once I fell out a tree and broke my wrist. When I showed my mother her immediate question was "Did your brother do this to you?" Sadly I said "No...I did it myself".
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Great autobiographical writing, Robin, which I enjoyed very much. I didn’t have an older sister, so most of my hand-me-downs came from cousins and the girl next door. Although my nan was great at sewing and knitting, and I remember some of the things she made me quite vividly, which she also darned and mended. I can remember cardboard insoles, cut out by my granddad, to stop the rain coming in! My knickers once got torn on a branch – I loved climbing trees – and I got a good hiding for that!
ReplyDeleteSounds like you experienced your share of sibling rivalry. You also grew up in very interesting times. Thank you for sharing a bit of your childhood with us.
ReplyDeleteThe end line is fantastic - is it done out of love of fear
ReplyDeleteYou grew in interesting times indeed, Robin. It seems things were not easy in those days. But kids, nevertheless, were going on with the business of being kids. I enjoy these bits of your wartime stories.
ReplyDeleteYou should have said it was him and then they would have sent him away to Borstal:)
ReplyDeleteLove all your childhood tales as they show time so distant from us. The somber music behind all these little joys and happiness can always be recognized. It was indeed a hard time for the parents.
ReplyDeleteI love your wartime stories. Your brother was a meanie!you sound very hardy, though.A wonderful write, Robin.
ReplyDeleteChildren can be such horrors. And some never grow out of it. The latter is scariest, but the former sticks and hurts more deeply, I think (especially when blood is involved).
ReplyDeleteThere's always a story to tell where sibling rivalry comes into play. I enjoyed this!
ReplyDeleteRough times and rough sibling rivalry were a part of your past but they have made you both strong and a strong writer! Love this Robin!
ReplyDeleteFamily stuff … all those layers of emotion pinned against the backdrop of personal stories and history in the making … makes for fascinating writing. Great job on this one, Robin!
ReplyDeleteI loved this snippet of memoir, and hope Magaly's prompts will inspire you to more. You've judged beautifully just where and how to end this one.
ReplyDeleteI have a brother just like that. Well captured, stitches and all.
ReplyDeleteThere's a bookish delight in those brown eyes of yours,
ReplyDeleteof gestures and signs and phrases
Occasionally connect as we pass by,
Sharing a love of sages.
Forgive me. Doesn't quite relate to above story but it's a wonderfully descriptive piece. Encourages me to try harder with my writing. Kn
ReplyDeleteLove the last line!
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