Easter remembered; Part 62

When I was a girl living in postwar Liverpool, that is the latter half of the forties and the early fifties, Easter was one of the few occasions when my sister and I were bought a new frock; the other times were Whit and Christmas. We didn't have much say in the style or colour as it was Mam who did the choosing and price was all as she couldn't really afford to buy us frocks and she was no dressmaker or knitter come to that. So it was a case of her getting a cheque from Sturla's on Breck Road and paying the money back over a period of time, either that or visiting a van that used to come round and park on waste ground. We'd go up steps at the back and inside there would be clothes on hangers hung on racks that could be bought on tick. I don't know if Dad knew about these goings-on but I remember Mam running up a bill at Begle's, which was a tiny shop that you reached by going up a back entry and into a yard and thence into a room with a counter and behind that on shelves were groceries. Dad was furious when he discovered Mam was in debt and the bill was paid in double quick time.


Mam and Dad didn't go to church but us kids were sent to Sunday School at a mission hall, connected to St Chrysostom's church in Everton, so we had to have new frocks for Easter Sunday so Mam thought. Interestingly despite their lack of churchgoing, we not only always had fish on Good Friday but Mam would never hang washing out on the line that day. On Easter Sunday Dad would boil onion skins and place hen's eggs in the water. The eggshells would get a pattern on and turn a different colour. Despite a shortage of money we always were given a chocolate egg as well. A real treat.


Come Easter Monday, Mum and Dad would take my sister and I out, For some reason our older brothers never came on these outings. Maybe they considered themselves too big to go out with their little sisters and had other plans to do with their mates. Occasionally we would go farther afield to places such as New Brighton by bus and ferry or even to Chester. More often than not it would be to Newsham Park or Sefton Park, the latter meant taking a bus. We would feed the ducks and play ball on the grass.
We would have never thought of these occasions as Quality Time as a lot of working parents and their children regard them now.


Mam did not go out to work until my younger sister was at secondary school, so for years we had plenty of time to spend with her, unless we were playing out in the street with our friends; games such as skipping, rounders, tick, giant strides, top and whip, two balls, hopscotch, etc.  There were numerous games which kept us fit and prevented us from getting overweight. We also walked most places.
This is turning into a real nostalgia indulgence so I'll finish by wishing you all a happy Eastertide.

WE ARE THE GREATEST: 62

Two weeks ago John and I went for a two night break in the Lake District. It only took us an hour and three quarters to get to Ambleside. Staying in the Elder Grove B&B among the guest were four blokes (note that word, not guys but blokes. I am utterly fed up of the use of the word guys which is used not just for men as in the musical Guys and Dolls, but for women and children as well. I don't know how many times my husband and I have been referred to as You guys and as you'll have gathered I don't like it one little bit.) Rant over.
Anyway, these blokes were from Suffolk and one of them asked me 'How long was the drive to Liverpool from Ambleside?'
Apparently it was about fifteen years or so since he had visited Liverpool to see a football match and he would like to go and visit our fair city again and have a proper look around.
I told him he would find it much changed. Immediately he mentioned Liverpool One. I said that there was much more to see than that and named several places , beloved of Liverpudlians and tourists alike so whetted his appetite to set foot in Liverpool even more. Another guest from London stressed how fortunate John and I were living where we did, not only were we within a shortish drive of the Lake District but Chester, the Wirral, North Wales, the Pennines and the beautiful Lancashire countryside as well.


John and I didn't need telling that because we've always known we live in one of the handiest places to visit beautiful countryside and coast and places of historical interest around as well as having some of the friendliest and quirky characters going.

Bay Television: Part 61

Last Thursday evening we had a camera crew visit Crosby Writers Club. I had never heard of Liverpool's own television channel until then. The reason for the visit was that our club is celebrating its 70th anniversary this year and it is believed that we are the oldest writers club in the country. During the proceeding I was interviewed about my writing life and membership of the club and I had the opportunity to promote my latest book MANY A TEAR HAS TO FALL as some copies had arrived that morning. I also did my best to promote our libraries which are in danger of vanishing from the face of this fair isle of ours and that is a disgrace. I doubt  I would have ever succeeded as a published writer if it were not for our libraries and Crosby Writers Club. For all the talk we hear about the need for literacy for the country's children, there is never mention of the damage that closing our libraries is doing. The part that free public libraries did in helping educating working class poor families is phenomenal and it is time the government and local councils thought again when it came to the subject of what is more important to the nation.


Right, now I have that off my chest I want to inform you a bit more about Bay Television - according to my son Tim it takes its name from Liverpool Bay which, of course,  takes in more than just Liverpool itself. Think of the Wirral for instance.
Anyway, it is on freeview so anyone in the country can view it. I don't know when the film will be shown yet but when I do, I'll blog about it. The programme is a Books programme.  In the meantime you could take a look at their website:http://www.baytvliverpool.com/

Last night I watched this great programme called sea ports about Liverpool: PART 60

After a busy day swimming, shopping, writing and reading, my son Iain brought up on iPlayer the above programme which I had missed on Thursday on BBC 2 because I had gone to Crosby Writers Club where Roger Philips of Radio Merseyside was judging our Article Competition, he also told us something about how he because a presenter on Radio Merseyside which proved very interesting. Roger was a Mancunian and for those who haven't heard that term it means he's from Manchester but he is now a honorary Liverpudlian. Anyway the above programme was mentioned as was Liverpool's new cruise ship terminal.

But the programme was about more than the new cruise ship terminal and all that the team there are doing to make tourists welcome and to get the best out of their visit to Liverpool. We had an insight into the working day of a family of tug boat sailors who tugged large ships along the Manchester Ship canal. Then we were taken to the beautiful island of Anglesey where a couple of pilots awaited a Greek tanker to guide it through the Mersey estuary and along the river to a oil refinery on the Wirral side of the Mersey. I knew already there were wrecks in the river as well as sandbanks.
 When I was a girl I was often taken on the ferry across the Mersey to Seacombe or New Brighton and Dad would point out the buoys that marked wrecks of ships sunk during the war. As for the sandbanks, my grandfather was a stoker on a dredger that helped stop the river from silting up. There were lovely views of both coastlines of the Mersey and of course the iconic Liver birds atop the Liver Building always brings a lump to my throat. Apparently Liverpool is one of the few ports were when passengers land they are immediately in the city and there is so much to see of interest in the immediate vicinity.

There were interviews with some of the tourists from a cruise ship which I think was called Sea Princess; a number of them had come primarily to see the Cavern and Penny Lane because of their links with the Beetles. We also were invited to empathise with some hardy souls who swam across the Mersey for various good causes in terrible weather conditions. We also saw some amateur boat builders on the Wirral, renovating an old sailing boat - smallish - and watched as with the wind in its sails it braved the waves.
The programme finished with shots of the visit of the three queens, Victoria, Mary II and Elizabeth in celebration of Cunard's 100 anniversary - a never  to be forgotten sight.


P.S. At 6-8pm Friday, 8th April, I will be at Frodsham Community Centre at a Meet the Author session as part of the Weaver Words, Frodsham Literary Festival, Wed.6th April to Sunday 10th April. There is a short story competition and various speakers.
for more information visit their website; Weaverwords, Frodsham Literary Festival.


My website is www.junefrancis.com

I WROTE THIS A MONTH AGO AND THEN WAS UNABLE TO GET ONTO BLOGGER: PART 59

It’s ages since I’ve been in Liverpool after dark but having bought tickets for the Liverpool Echo Carol Concert at the Anglican Cathedral, son, Tim, who goes into the city most days, decided he would drive us there, avoiding the city centre. It was the last Friday before Christmas and a lot of the shops would be open for late night shopping, so it was going to be chaotic. When we said we’d walk down to Central Station and get the train home, he said, ‘Definitely not as the trains would be packed. He would come and pick us up.’

I’m glad he did.

The cathedral was magical with a beautifully lit up Christmas tree and it was packed with people.

Joe Riley who writes for the Echo was the Compere and there were several special guests, including Pauline Daniels who has played Shirley Valentine on the stage, a 14 year old girl, Angelina Dorin-Barlow sang three solos and had the voice of an angel, John Hayden, an expert on bell-ringing, spoke about how the clappers on bells are muffled when they ring out the dying of the old year, but the leather mufflers are removed to ring in the new year with a joyous sound. The cathedral bells have a claim to fame which Joe told us about but which I can’t remember now but the cathedral has a very good website if you want to know more. The really special guests were the Appleton Family whose son has been undergoing treatment at Alder Hey Children’s Hospital for the last five years. The concert was in aid of the hospital which is known worldwide. There were also several guest ensembles: Liverpool Cathedral Youth Choir, Choirs of St Mary, West Derby, and Holy Trinity, Southport. All the singing was glorious and I pitied those exhausting themselves doing their Christmas shopping.

For me, the occasion brought memories flooding back because when I attended Liverpool Girls College, our school and St Edmund’s used to celebrate Ascension Day in a service at the cathedral in the fifties, there was no shop or restaurant then. I was also confirmed there.  As for Alder Hey Hospital, Tim and I were to visit there over a period of six weeks after Tim fell out of a conker tree and broke both wrists, cracked a kneecap and broke his nose. It was to be eight years before his nose was to be fixed as his bones were still growing. At twenty-one, a slither of bone was taken from his hip and a new bridge made for his nose, but this was done at Whiston Hospital’s special plastic surgery unit.

We were also reminded of this when I fell from some steps outside a shop recently and landed on my nose. Fortunately I suffered no broken bones but my face was a mess with cuts and a swollen nose and two black eyes. Still, I’ve had a lot of sympathy from folk and encouragement from Tim and my husband thinks I’m brave and uncomplaining.

But setting this aside, I must tell you about the view from outside the cathedral which stands on St James Mount, we could see the lit up ferris wheel down by the waterfront and it was down to the waterfront  that Tim took us as he had returned home earlier via the dock road, after going past the Albert Dock where there were trees decorated with lights but also a couple of sailing ships. The way one ship was lit up was in the outline of a Christmas tree.

Whilst considering the amount of electricity being used, I was also thinking of my ancestors’ day when they didn’t have electricity so never had the pleasure that Christmas lights  provide us with in the darkest times of the year.

Last time I blogged was in September after I suffered a stroke and I told you I would be taking a break from writing. Well, now I am writing the next book. "Walking Back to Happiness" and I'm into the era of the sixties. My latest saga  “Many A Tear Has To Fall” will be published in March in hardback. Check out your nearest library. For those with a Kindle two of my historical romances which I wrote years ago are out in Ebook format for the first time on Amazon.

My next paperback will be Lily's War published 21st April

P.S. My son Tim Francis also has an E-book up on Amazon called  “It’s Still Out There”. A children’s book that he has written and illustrated.

Kindle medieval: Love's Intrigue and My Lady Deceiver.

OUT AND ABOUT

As a local writer I have been invited to appear at the Frodsham Literary Festival at the Community Centre on Friday, 8th April 2016 between 6-8pm to promote my work and sign books.

You Never Know the Minute. PART 58

I don’t know how many times I’ve heard the above words spoken when something unexpected has happened but I heard it more often recently because at the beginning of September I had a stroke. The charity The Stroke Association have Four letters  to help people if they suspect someone is having a stroke FAST which not only means fast action is necessary but F for facial weakness, A  for arm weakness, S for speech problems and T for time to call 999 or to get the victim to hospital right away. I was fortunate in that I was at home  with my husband and two grown up sons and I had some signs- the lower right side of my face was dragged down and my husband said I was talking gobble de kook. I just thought I was talking slowly. So he and Son no 2 wasted no time driving me to Fazakerley hospital straightaway. I saw a doctor immediately and then a stroke specialist, I had a brain scan, as well as a deep scan on my neck, as well as a chest x-ray and a heart monitor thingy, this after various tests to check the strength in my arms  and legs. During my time in the hospital I had my pressure, temperature monitored regularly and had blood tests.  I was fortunate in that I only had a slight weakness in my right arm and I was able to talk almost normal by then but the stroke had affected my swallow muscles. I was admitted and in a short while was taken up to Ward 33. I had a room to myself off the main ward which surprised me, with a toilet and shower off it, as well as a television in a straight line with the bed. Maybe this was because the main ward was full up.

     Anyway, I can’t fault the care and attention I received including the meals I was served, This despite I could only eat food that could be mashed with a fork or served in gravy, sauces or custard or yoghurt.  Much is written and said about the National Health  and of course, no organisation is without its faults but I consider we are so blessed in our country having such a health service.

During my life as a writer I have not only had to research certain illnesses but needed to know the names and situations of hospitals in Liverpool and various other places. I also had to be certain that they existed during the period the book was set. Fortunately I remember a little about life before the Health Service although I was only a small child at the time. I also have used stories my mother and mother-in-law told me. E.g. my eldest brother, Ron, caught scarlet fever when he was only a toddler and was taken to the fever hospital. My mother had to step in a bowl of disinfectant before she could approach him but was not allowed to get really close to him to give him a hug but could only talk to him from behind a curtain soaked in disinfectant. My brother lost his hearing in one ear as a result of the scarlet fever.

Interestingly my son’s best friend since primary school lost his hearing in one ear recently and was sent for a brain scan. IAvailat was discovered that he had suffered a mini stroke and it was that which had caused the deafness. 

I was in hospital for five days and since being home I have had visits from the speech therapist and an occupational therapist, as well as a volunteer from the Stroke Association. I have kept up with facial exercises for my swallow muscles and my son who has done acting but now has his heart set on being a film director/ writer put links to voice training exercises on my computer. My swallow muscles are now strong enough for me to eat a normal diet but having discussing my writing with the occupational therapist, we came to the conclusion that it would be sensible for me to take a break and not begin work on the next novel for a couple of months. Fortunately I had finished the novel I had been working on before my stroke. The thing is that my brain is going to be busy repairing itself for a while and needs all the help it can get from me, so I need also to rest and relax.

One of the ways I relax is by going to a couple of meetings the Stroke Association organise in Crosby and Orrell. One is a music meeting where we sing a mixture of songs which include a fair number from the fifties and sixties, good for strengthening the voice and face muscles. The other meeting we have quizzes, the kind where you have to recognise and name faces of famous people and also tunes, good for the memory. Both meetings are fun and one is meeting other  members of what I call the SS, STROKE SURVIVORS.  A writer’s working life is a solitary one, so it has proved good for me to get out and meet people I wouldn’t meet normally and I’m finding it interesting as a novelist because I’m spotting characteristics that I can use in my writing, not that I put real people in my books, too risky, bit the odd interesting characteristic can colour my writing.

Well, I think that’s all for now as I can’t type as quick as I used to be able to.

Please check my new website: www.junefrancis.com for news of my books being issued next year .

Available now: A  DAUGHER’S CHOICE   pb  EBURY PRESS

 LOVE LETTERS IN THE SAND  hb  SEVERN HOUSE’

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CITY OF MUSIC: PART 57

Liverpool has been in the news a lot lately due to one of her most famous daughters returning home to her final resting place. We saw a lot of Cilla Black on the telly in her early days when she was famous for her singing, rather than her appearances on “Blind Date” or “Surprise, Surprise. She really could belt a song out and my all time favourite is “Anyone Who Has a Heart”. Cilla never lost her Scouse accent and yet I’ve never caught a hint of it when she sang. This despite there are those who have been heard to say she laid the accent on a bit with a trowel. If she did then that was most likely because her being a Liverpudlian was so very much part of her persona. Last time I saw her in the flesh was on at the Empire theatre in Lime Street a few years ago when she played the fairy godmother in “Cinderella”. Despite touching seventy as one might expect of a fairy, she flew down onto the stage (on wires, of course), looking extremely glam in a white and sparkly gown. She had come a long way from the young girl who wanted to sing and worked at the Cavern.
     Now I’m not going to go on about Cilla because you’ll have read and seen enough about her life since her unexpected accidental death in Spain. Rather I want to say that it seemed odd to me that Cilla should be so in the news, just as I’d emailed the manuscript of my latest book, (Many A Tear Has to Fall), to my publisher. One of my characters, Monica, sings with a group and appears at the Cavern and is hoping to sign a recording contract with an agent. The year is 1960 and I remember it well. I never set foot in the Cavern myself but my husband went there as a teenager, so he was able to describe it to me. I also have a cousin who later was to work at the Iron Door, a place that never became as famous as the Cavern.
      The Cavern started out as a jazz club and Maggie, the heroine of my story, goes there with a jazz enthusiast who is not all that he seems, but that’s all I’ll say about him at this stage. Music was very much part of my life as a teenager growing up Liverpool, even though I was never at the centre of the music scene. But me and the boyfriend would visit the music stores, Cranes, Hanover Street, Rushworth and Draper’s, Whitechapel, and Nems also on Whitechapel, to buy records or sheet music. At the time I had no idea that Nems was owned by the family of Brian Epstein, who was to become the Beetles’ manager, as well as that of other famous musicians and singers on the Liverpool scene. I was also aware of where the smaller store, Hessy’s was situated near Dale Street, where would be pop stars, bought their instruments. I never passed through its hallowed doorway but only gazed through the window at the guitars, saxophones and other instruments on show. Although both of us had sung in choirs, neither of us ever played an instrument, although John’s mother had a piano in the parlour as did many a household in those days.
    It wasn’t until we were married and much older that John bought his first guitar and taught himself chords and the like, purely just for fun. At one time he even purchased a mandolin. Our two elder sons never showed any real music bent, although Iain was in the school choir and later the church choir. We had to wait until Daniel, son no 3, requested a keyboard for a prezzie one Christmas before discovering that there was some real musical talent in the family. He taught himself, not only to play keyboard but to read and write music. He was eventually to play the organ at St Mark’s Methodist church in Netherton, as well as our local C of E, St Paul’s, Litherland. He even had a go at playing various organs around Merseyside, including the magnificent one at the Liverpool Anglican Cathedral whilst doing an organ course. As well as that he has written the music for several short films written and directed by son No 2, Tim. http://www.timjfrancis.com/slate.html

So where does this love and talent for music come from? I remember whilst doing research for one of my earlier books FRIENDS AND LOVERS reading that it could be due to the number of Welsh and Irish who settled here, as well as Liverpool being a port and so it being a haven for sailors who always enjoy a good tune. If that’s true, then it’s certainly in my family’s blood. Although, I don’t like to discount the part played by the English, Manx, Scots and Norwegian in my ancestry and a whole host of other Liverpudlians who enjoy a good singsong.

P.S.  I noticed this morning that my book MEMORIES ARE MADE OF THIS is selling at the reduced price of £1.78 in ebook format on Amazon.