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My Mom's parents, Batt and Kitty, from Eyeries, didn't play much music, or sing often. At least as much as I recall. They were into politics, education and world affairs. They had humour, a lovely gentle humour, and a ton of love, but it was not a musical house. But they did like ballads and light opera, and had a record player, and this is the song I remember best from Eyeries.
My Dad's parents, Mort and Katie, from Ardgroom, loved music. Their house was a Rambling House, one which welcomed locals and the odd stray, and there, at the end of a hard week's work, you'd find craic and you'd find card games. Clever people, too, but politics was parked. In their house, there was a record player whose needles lasted lying-time, and noble call and a scant regard for the forthcoming daylight meant everyone had to have at least a few songs up their sleeve.
"The opposite of love, after all, is not hate, but indifference."
My Mom's parents, Batt and Kitty, from Eyeries, didn't play much music, or sing often. At least as much as I recall. They were into politics, education and world affairs. They had humour, a lovely gentle humour, and a ton of love, but it was not a musical house. But they did like ballads and light opera, and had a record player, and this is the song I remember best from Eyeries.
My Dad's parents, Mort and Katie, from Ardgroom, loved music. Their house was a Rambling House, one which welcomed locals and the odd stray, and there, at the end of a hard week's work, you'd find craic and you'd find card games. Clever people, too, but politics was parked. In their house, there was a record player whose needles lasted lying-time, and noble call and a scant regard for the forthcoming daylight meant everyone had to have at least a few songs up their sleeve.
listening to that jim reeves song brings back so many memories of nan bringing in the kippers for me and grandad for breakfast on a sunday morning, having a game of crib, then shooting down the the north pole for a couple of hours....12 till 2... back home to theirs, watching the big match ...followed by a loveley sunday roast....
I went to Amsterdam with my Aussie mate Dave around 1987. Dave was very much in to his weed so we frequented numerous coffee shops over the three days. The strange thing was half of them would be playing the reggae music you would expect whilst the other half would be playing Jim Reeves. Utterly bizzare.
The usual suspects on my grandparents RG, Matt, Jim, Frank and the greatest recorded voice of all time, Ella.
We would visit my grandfathers sister, Aunty Ivy, who also had a RG, but a far more contemporary taste in music, The Beatles, Stones, hit singles of the day. She would give me her old 45's she no longer wanted which formed the basis of my record collection, I was only 4 but already loved music. My record collection contained things such as If I Had A Hammer, Lipstick On Your Collar, Living Doll and things like this
My dear late grandmother used to be a big cliff richard fan, and when I worked at the Albert Hall I managed to get her tickets but she was too ill to attend. His 'fans' are/were truly weird and I photocopied my nan a letter from a Japanese lady who documented her story of following Cliff all over the world and then sent a letter titled "Cliff's chase", a kind of begging letter for tickets. My nan loved it. Anyway on the passing of my grandfather I stayed with her for about two weeks and she would play John Denver's 'Annie's Song' on repeat, which at the time of being a 13 year old boy into jungle and happy hardcore was particularly jarring, but I have since developed a bit of a soft spot for the track nowadays... Anyway, moving on...
Not a record, but on the rare event I hear the Archers theme tune, I think of granny Leicester. And Corrie, which was oddly referred to as Corro. And even more off topic, when I see a chocolate orange.
Not a record, but on the rare event I hear the Archers theme tune, I think of granny Leicester. And Corrie, which was oddly referred to as Corro. And even more off topic, when I see a chocolate orange.
With me it’s wrestling. Anyone mentioning haystacks brings me right back. As does too much butter on your bread. Or that white china with the light blue rings on it and candlewick bedspreads. If anyone hasn’t been to the Black Country museum, do go. Anyone 50s upwards is almost bound to be struck by some kind of parent/grandparent memory…
With me it’s wrestling. Anyone mentioning haystacks brings me right back. As does too much butter on your bread. Or that white china with the light blue rings on it and candlewick bedspreads. If anyone hasn’t been to the Black Country museum, do go. Anyone 50s upwards is almost bound to be struck by some kind of parent/grandparent memory…
The blue and white hooped china is called Cornishware. I have some cereal bowls for QPR fun.
With me it’s wrestling. Anyone mentioning haystacks brings me right back. As does too much butter on your bread. Or that white china with the light blue rings on it and candlewick bedspreads. If anyone hasn’t been to the Black Country museum, do go. Anyone 50s upwards is almost bound to be struck by some kind of parent/grandparent memory…
Hahaha my kids still moan about the amount of butter I and my mother spread on toast
We visited Nanna and Grandad (on Dad’s side of the family) in Edmonton every couple of months or so for Sunday roast and tea. The song I most associate with that period is ‘I Can’t Stop Loving You’ by Ray Charles. Also ‘Sing Something Simple’ (with the Cliff James Singers), an easy listening show on the BBC Light Programme.
Mum’s side was a bit more complicated as her parents ‘didn’t get on’. Grandad was a publican and boxing promoter (his brother Stan was timekeeper at the controversial Henry Cooper v Cassius Clay fight at Wembley Stadium in 1963). Gran was fond of Frankie Vaughan (‘Mr Moonlight’) and got me his autograph, which I still have to this day!
Still got my old nan and grandads sideboard that turns into a record player
Sound on it is amazing
And Bowles is onside, Swinburne has come rushing out of his goal , what can Bowles do here , onto the left foot no, on to the right foot
That’s there that’s two, and that’s Bowles
Brian Moore
I'm old so my recollection is somewhat hazy, but probably this:
"Things had started becoming increasingly desperate at Loftus Road but QPR have been handed a massive lifeline and the place has absolutely erupted. it's carnage. It's bedlam. It's 1-1."
The theme tune to 'The Archers.' Just couldn't avoid it!
In WW1 My Grandad was in the Royal Observer Corps, one of the precursors of the R.A.F. He was involved in very early radio tech with them. When he came back he wired up the entire house. Allegedly so my Gran could listen to 'Mrs Dales Diary' wherever she happened to be, but really just to show off his Mad Skilz. I'd be woken up with Tom Forrest and Walter Gabriel nattering at me from the corner of my bedroom.
But along lines of some above, my dad being a strong welsh rugby fan, he loved Max Boyce. Jim Reeves also. Joan Armatrading and Melanie, particularly remember Candles in the Rain.
My gran was a Methodist so there was quite a lot of "lusty" singing in the front parlour of their miners mansion... though as a 60s child it wasn't exactly top of the pops
But grandad has an old wireless in his shed and through the fog of silk cut, pipe and whatever was cheapest to smoke, we would disappear to said shed to listen to it
The Navy Lark .... never really got the gist of it, but seeing the old boy chortling away to it always made me happy, and then two way family favourites,
Still makes me smile the patience he had with me, firing a thousand questions at him about absolute shite.... guess that is what nans and grandads do...
My grandad taught me and my brother to slope arms (with sticks for rifles), and then we'd march around his garden singing world war one songs like "pack up your troubles in your old kit bag" and "it's a long way to Tipperary". We loved it. I think my favourite was "boiled beef and carrots"...
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