Hats and More Minibooks

I've been busy this morning as I knew the weather was going to be better this afternoon. Hopefully I'll have time for a walk later. I have made a couple of minibooks in my crafting session. All the photos are quite small so they fit well into a flip book made from one sheet of 12x12. 

Most of the people in the photos are dead now so the book is a record of who's who in the older members of my side of the family.

My husband's family do not have any old photos of previous generations. He is one of 5 children living with their parents in London's Islington district. He and his brother shared a bed, and his three sisters shared another. They certainly did not have any money spare for photographers. The family was moved out of London to Aylesbury which is where I met my husband, but that's another story.

I think black and white photos are so much clearer than colour. You can see every fine detail in the faces and clothing even though the images may be old. Personally, I think it's hard to scrap old photos. You need to be sympathetic to their content,  not be too modern in the choice of papers, make room for names (and stories if you know any!) and try to let the photos speak for themselves.

I just love the hats in old photos! Isn't it a shame we rarely wear hats now? Usually they're worn just for weddings these days, yet I think they are lovely at any time. Look at these 1930's hats. The ladies' Sunday Best I'm sure! Dad's written on the back of the photo 'Mr Watson School Master at Sunday Church Outing'. He can't remember the place, date, or the ladies' names, but I'm  guessing one is Mr Watson's wife.

I also made a small fold up minibook documenting Dad's working life. He worked in an Ironmonger's Shop from when he left school with the only break being when he was drafted into the RAF. At 18 he was made the manager, although he thought he was too young for the job! I remember going there as a young child and watching Dad serve petrol and paraffin to customers - he tells me the petrol was 1shilling (10p) a gallon in those days! He later moved from the shop in Woburn to the premises in Woburn Sands where he was manager for 33 years before retiring with ill-health. Both shops are still there today, but the Woburn store was taken over and now sells china. To keep both minibooks safe I made a slipcover to keep them in.

So now I hope there's time for a walk before tea, but I don't have a hat to wear for my Bank Holiday Promenade!

If only....

My mother must be the only member of my family left for me to introduce.

This is one of the few 'old' photos I have of her. She's sitting on the steps of the cottage in Wavendon where she lived when newly married. My older sister Maureen is sitting on her knee. I don't know the exact date. Perhaps it was 1954 when Maureen was two years old.

Why don't I have any early photos of Mum? Because there are none.

She was born in Jarrow, County Durham. Her family was poor and apparently her father took part in the Hunger Marches from Jarrow to London in the late 20's and early 30's. Mum was orphaned when she was four by the death of both her parents; her Dad from alcohol-induced liver disease and her Mum from cancer. She was put into a childrens' home and was eventually adopted by a miner and his wife who didn't have children of their own.

After the war, Mum joined the Land Army and was sent to Woburn in Bedfordshire where she met my father who worked in an Ironmonger's Shop. One day she asked him to mend her bicycle and the rest, as they say, is history. I do have later photos of Mum, from her wedding day onwards.

Mum never talked about her past. I didn't even know she had a brother and sister until I was 10 years old! Everything I know about her younger days has been told me by my father. My own childhood memories of her are her quick temper (she chased my sister and I around the dining table with a leather belt if we were naughty) and the way she said whatever came into her head before thinking it through. The one piece of advice I remember her giving us children was, 'If you can't hit 'em, kick 'em!'- a legacy from her upbringing I guess.

Mum is 79 now and has Alzheimers Disease. She is deteriorating rapidly and cannot remember the names of family members who are alive, let alone those who have passed away. All her childhood memories are gone forever.

That's the main reason I scrapbook: to pass on the story of my family before it is forgotten, for my children to know where they came from, for them to have a record of their early years, and for them to know what makes me 'Me'.

If only I had asked Mum years ago all the questions I would dearly love to ask her now.

If only someone had recorded her family's story too.