.. . its a bailey .. . using no traditional punctuation sandals
This picture shows me a few weeks after the bonfire incident with my older brother Martin still nursing bandaged feet due to the burns I suffered
.. . and while we are on the subject of mothers did i mention that my mum mammy mater mother mummy was the best ever ◉ for children growing up in the fifties the mother father parental pairing was still the accepted norm within pretty much the whole of western culture ◉ in british society the mothers matriarchal position was still paramount ◉ as a child i was never aware of any overt sexism ◉ we just accepted the roles our parents played as distinct not necessarily superior or inferior ◉ in these stripped down personal memoirs it is not my purpose to comment on modern gender politics but simply to tell things as i found them ◉ i have some early memories as an under 5 that some find surprising ◉ for instance i can clearly remember our next door neighbour mrs iffel talking baby mumbo jumbo to me while i lay in my pram and also the softness of my blankets ◉ i can also remember queuing with my mother outside a hall behind our local swimming baths one cold day in sunshine ◉ once inside my mother collected two flat medicine style bottles with corks containing natural squeezed orange juice and a jar of virol malt extract that were supplied free of charge using ration books until they were terminated in July 1954 ◉ that fact alone places my recollection and my age at under 3 years ◉ one memory i do not recall however that concerned my mother she would often retell as it had made her feel guilty ◉ one day she had left me in my pram outside the local greengrocers and walked nearly 2 miles home before realising she had left me behind ◉ unsurprisingly she had panicked and hastily returned to find me sleeping soundly in my pram on a lazy summers day in the surrey village where we lived ◉ i never blamed my mother and grew kind of proud of her confession ◉ ironically life gave her the opportunity to balance up that spot of negligence a few years later at almost the very same spot where she had left me sleeping in my pram ◉ she had been shopping in boots the chemists the shop adjacent to the greengrocers where my mother had left me 7 years previously ◉ i was returning from primary school early one evening at age 8 years as children did in 1959 ◉ on the day in question i had chosen to walk with 2 friends through the woods ◉ i would leave them at the corner of the village and journey on alone through the park to our home ◉ as we reached the place where we normally parted we found a large number of trees had been felled quite recently chopped up and burnt in a large fire that measured around 30 feet in circumference ◉ the bonfire seemed burnt out and dormant although it had left a huge circle of white ash ◉ there were no barriers or warning signs ◉ i suppose i was showing off as i rushed into the circle of dusty cinders sending a shower of silver flakes up into the hot sunny afternoon haze ◉ my friends laughed at my bravado ◉ i rushed past the cold extremities of the fire toward the neucleus suddenly aware that my feet were strangely warming ◉ i arrested my crazy dash on reaching the centre of the bonfires residue anguished as i was aware of intense sparks of heat penetrating the cut holes in my children’s buckled sandals ◉ i glanced down in horror at my sandalled feet now nestling deep inside the silver piecrust exterior and encased by angry red and orange coals of fire ◉ small blue and silver flames licked at my white ankle socks ◉ inevitably i screamed and ran for the safety of the woodland floor ◉ i was sobbing with the shock of my personal misfortune and painful burns while my friends offered kids kind of palliative advice stressing I should get home fast while also berating me for my foolish antics ◉ easy to be wise after the event guys ◉ my sobbing continued as i limped painfully in the general direction of our home deciding to take an impromptu route through the village ◉ i was scared and had no wish to be alone so i limped painfully up the road toward where the road met the high street ◉ the junction corner was where boots the chemist was situated ◉ at this moment my mother exited boots the chemist as if on cue ◉ with her purchases completed she planned to walk home ◉ she stated later that she had been suddenly overwhelmed by a desire to turn left out the store and proceed down the adjacent road towards the park ◉ she could not explain her actions as she never used that road and it took the opposite direction to home ◉ yet she proceeded down the road and recognising the sound of a child crying she hurried to help ◉ miraculously she was confronted by her own distressed son ◉ it was a remarkable and unforgettable mother son moment we often spoke of ◉
… its a bailey .. . 4 december 2020 .. . edenbraytoday
This picture shows me a few weeks after the bonfire incident with my older brother Martin still nursing bandaged feet due to the burns I suffered
This picture shows me a few weeks after the bonfire incident with my older brother Martin on holiday in Littlehampton still nursing bandaged feet due to the burns I suffered
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About edenbray
I am a writer ... a beat poet who began writing poetry way back in 1966 ... 'edenbray is born ugly, wet, covered in blood, mucous & bodily functions, the effluence of my short life' ... I recently published my 1st solo Anthology - the best of 60 years writing - previously I ran my own Art Supplies Store for 40 yrs before I became a full-time writer I am a Blogger who has posted 1,000 poems - available in 24 themed booklets ... please ask for details + leave a 'like' or a comment for my encouragement, thank you so much for listening - I truly value your opinion on my work ~ in fact I literally survive on your creative input ~ edenbray
its a bailey .. . sandals
.. . and while we are on the subject of mothers did i mention that my mum mammy mater mother mummy was the best ever ◉ for children growing up in the fifties the mother father parental pairing was still the accepted norm within pretty much the whole of western culture ◉ in british society the mothers matriarchal position was still paramount ◉ as a child i was never aware of any overt sexism ◉ we just accepted the roles our parents played as distinct not necessarily superior or inferior ◉ in these stripped down personal memoirs it is not my purpose to comment on modern gender politics but simply to tell things as i found them ◉ i have some early memories as an under 5 that some find surprising ◉ for instance i can clearly remember our next door neighbour mrs iffel talking baby mumbo jumbo to me while i lay in my pram and also the softness of my blankets ◉ i can also remember queuing with my mother outside a hall behind our local swimming baths one cold day in sunshine ◉ once inside my mother collected two flat medicine style bottles with corks containing natural squeezed orange juice and a jar of virol malt extract that were supplied free of charge using ration books until they were terminated in July 1954 ◉ that fact alone places my recollection and my age at under 3 years ◉ one memory i do not recall however that concerned my mother she would often retell as it had made her feel guilty ◉ one day she had left me in my pram outside the local greengrocers and walked nearly 2 miles home before realising she had left me behind ◉ unsurprisingly she had panicked and hastily returned to find me sleeping soundly in my pram on a lazy summers day in the surrey village where we lived ◉ i never blamed my mother and grew kind of proud of her confession ◉ ironically life gave her the opportunity to balance up that spot of negligence a few years later at almost the very same spot where she had left me sleeping in my pram ◉ she had been shopping in boots the chemists the shop adjacent to the greengrocers where my mother had left me 7 years previously ◉ i was returning from primary school early one evening at age 8 years as children did in 1959 ◉ on the day in question i had chosen to walk with 2 friends through the woods ◉ i would leave them at the corner of the village and journey on alone through the park to our home ◉ as we reached the place where we normally parted we found a large number of trees had been felled quite recently chopped up and burnt in a large fire that measured around 30 feet in circumference ◉ the bonfire seemed burnt out and dormant although it had left a huge circle of white ash ◉ there were no barriers or warning signs ◉ i suppose i was showing off as i rushed into the circle of dusty cinders sending a shower of silver flakes up into the hot sunny afternoon haze ◉ my friends laughed at my bravado ◉ i rushed past the cold extremities of the fire toward the neucleus suddenly aware that my feet were strangely warming ◉ i arrested my crazy dash on reaching the centre of the bonfires residue anguished as i was aware of intense sparks of heat penetrating the cut holes in my children’s buckled sandals ◉ i glanced down in horror at my sandalled feet now nestling deep inside the silver piecrust exterior and encased by angry red and orange coals of fire ◉ small blue and silver flames licked at my white ankle socks ◉ inevitably i screamed and ran for the safety of the woodland floor ◉ i was sobbing with the shock of my personal misfortune and painful burns while my friends offered kids kind of palliative advice stressing I should get home fast while also berating me for my foolish antics ◉ easy to be wise after the event guys ◉ my sobbing continued as i limped painfully in the general direction of our home deciding to take an impromptu route through the village ◉ i was scared and had no wish to be alone so i limped painfully up the road toward where the road met the high street ◉ the junction corner was where boots the chemist was situated ◉ at this moment my mother exited boots the chemist as if on cue ◉ with her purchases completed she planned to walk home ◉ she stated later that she had been suddenly overwhelmed by a desire to turn left out the store and proceed down the adjacent road towards the park ◉ she could not explain her actions as she never used that road and it took the opposite direction to home ◉ yet she proceeded down the road and recognising the sound of a child crying she hurried to help ◉ miraculously she was confronted by her own distressed son ◉ it was a remarkable and unforgettable mother son moment we often spoke of ◉
… its a bailey .. . 4 december 2020 .. . edenbraytoday
This picture shows me a few weeks after the bonfire incident with my older brother Martin on holiday in Littlehampton still nursing bandaged feet due to the burns I suffered
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About edenbray
I am a writer ... a beat poet who began writing poetry way back in 1966 ... 'edenbray is born ugly, wet, covered in blood, mucous & bodily functions, the effluence of my short life' ... I recently published my 1st solo Anthology - the best of 60 years writing - previously I ran my own Art Supplies Store for 40 yrs before I became a full-time writer I am a Blogger who has posted 1,000 poems - available in 24 themed booklets ... please ask for details + leave a 'like' or a comment for my encouragement, thank you so much for listening - I truly value your opinion on my work ~ in fact I literally survive on your creative input ~ edenbray