Another bite sized chunk of Blantyre History
Just as Margaret says, what a wonderful journey through the history of old Blantyre! I feel i know it as much as old Paisley! I just loved the big jars of malt and bottles of orange juice. Every time my mum went out to the loo, my pals and I would be in at the malt (no not the whisky,dww) the bigger the spoon the better. I’m sure she must have known as we must have left big sticky trails all over the place! Happy days! I tried to get my grand kids to take malt, but no can do, they hated the smell of it. How about the liberty bodice? Who remembers that? There were only a couple of people in my class wore them. YES INCLUDING ME. When the school nurses came round to give medicals they used to say.”wish all the mums were as health conscious as yours, giving you vitamins and dressing you warmly.”
Then we thought we were the cats pyjamas. I think I’ll go and walk the dog as all these memories are making me feel OLD. Well I’m not really THAT old, Honest. Cheers, Nancy
Well thank you Nancy for your kind remarks.
As for the liberty bodice, well my mum would not allow us boys to wear the bodice, she said that we looked cute enough without it. And as for the malt I am very partial to a drop of the single stuff myself.Hic!
I’ shink U’ll let the dug tac me fur a schtrool.
Oh Nancy, the spoon in the malt jar, how many times we thought we had got away with it but had a wee drop on our chin for our Mum to wipe away with a smile. Now i remember my liberty bodice, my aunt brought them for me in my first winter in Kilmarnock it was white with lambs wool lining sleeveless and had wee rubber buttons that my skirt buttoned onto. (I am sure that I was the only child wearing one in my home town in New Zealand when I returned there after living for 2 years in Scotland.) I remember getting into trouble for squeezing the buttons and putting them out of shape. How this Blantyre page has brought so many wonderful memories is just great fun.
Keep the memories rolling
All the best
Continuing the conversation between Thomas Dunsmuir Hartman in Chicago, formerly Logan Street, (known as TDH or Drapadew) and Margaret in Queensland Australia on TalkingScot.
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