A house filled with babies

My oldest sister, Maureen Joy was born in 1937. (How did I ever come to have a 70 year old sister!). Dad chose her first name (remember, he loved the Irish) and our next doors neighbours, Uncle and Auntie Charlton prophesied to my Mum and Dad “she will always be a joy to you” - hence her middle name. And their prophecy was true.

Then in ‘38 or ‘39 came my second sister Jean Diane. When Jean was 12 or 13, and at Eastville Girls School she was asked to write a poem. Jean came up with

“She coughed, and coughed
‘til her hat blew off”

Now why do I remember that?

Our sister Sylvia was born in ‘41 or ‘41. She is the child who died soon after birth - of what I now believe was “spina bifida”.

My twin sister Elizabeth and I came along in 1944. I often wonder what the heck my parents were thinking to allow Mum to conceive in 1943. If WWII had gone the other way I might have been raised as a little “N-zi.

When I was five I was at Nanny Povey’s home. My three sister were “picking on me”. I cried out “I wish, I wish, I wish I had a brother”

Be careful what you wish for!

Andrew came along in 1950, David in ‘52, Stephen in ‘53 and Martyn in ‘54. Last of all came Ruth in ‘56. She was born on Boxing Day (December 26th), on which day my parents had gotten married all those years before.

We had a house full of babies. Maureen became our “second mother”, alongside Mum.

At some time, maybe in ‘52 Elizabeth and I would be sent to the health clinic off Russell Town Avenue. There we would pick up free or subsidised “concentrated” orange juice, and powdered baby formula. Mum insisted that it should be “Cow and Gate” brand.

At about that time I knew how to change nappies (diapers), and to make baby milk from powder in a bottle with a “teat” (not a “nipple” as in America). I probably did this less often than I remember, but I retain a love for the smell of a baby doused in “Johnson’s” Baby powder.

This was the hardest time for Mum. Remember, still no washing machine. David was a “preemy” and Mum was exhausted.

Elizabeth and I were sent off for two weeks to a house in Kingswood, Gloucestershire owned by the Bristol University Settlement in Barton Hill.

( see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Settlement_movement regarding the settlement movement).

There are two Kingswoods in Gloucestershire, one is now a suburb of Bristol, but this one was out in the country near Wotton-under-Edge.

We traveled by the number 26 ‘bus (why do I remember these details!), from Stapleton Road to Kingswood.

It was a magical time for me. I loved it. We took walks, I remember one to Wotton-under-Edge and back. I could have sworn that it was three miles each way, but in fact it was simple a mile.

We attended Sunday School in the (then) very Evangelical St Mary’s Church, and to my surprise they used the same book of gospel choruses as we used at the Gospel Hall.

It was also in this house that an older girl allowed we young boys to look down her nightie at her breasts. Heady stuff!


After one child-birth Mum was unwell, so Dad set off our fireworks on November 5th (Please to remember the Fifth of November, Gunpowder, treason and plot). He set off a bottle rocket, not remembering that the outside clothes line was filled with cloth nappies. The rocket misfired and set three or four of the nappies on fire. How relieved we were that Dad had done this - had it been once of us there would have been hell to pay.

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