One of my memories of my childhood is the constant bad head aches, which still plague me 50+ years on.I suffered from bad migraines from around 6 years old. Some times when they were unbearable I would tap my head against the wall to relieve the pain. It sounds a bit silly doing something like that but at six it worked for me. I can still remember the feeling of almost numbness in my head with every tap.
One of these occasions my dad was looking after me, mum was at work at the bakery . Funny how many nights she had to stay behind to help the owner to do the books or help with a special order. wink, wink, nudge, nudge, say no more ;).
Dad bless him was none the wiser. He was only concerned that she was out when her daughter needed her mum. I can remember him chuntering while looking through the window, where the fizz is your mum? It's not as she gets any over time for staying behind! No one else stays late!
Dad was lovely but a little stupid at times. This particular night dad lost his temper with her, very unusual, mum was fiery at best and prone to throw the odd shoe and dad didn't like to cross her, nor did any one else for that matter.As I remember the argument it went something like this.
Dad: Where the hell have you been.
Mum: You know I stay behind sometimes.
Dad: You could have nipped home first.
Mum: You know where I was.
Dad: Don't you care that Hazel has been banging her head against the wall all night in pain?
Mum. Well I had to help Mr Miller to get his order out.
Dad: And that's more important is it? It's nearly midnight.
And so it went on.It didn't stop her staying out working late about once a week.
Once when I was around eight or nine but no older mum took me to work.
Some thing her work mates said At did not make much sense to me, at the time, to me they were just having a laugh with mum. Mum was going up a ladder with Mr Miller (the backer) to the loft where the sacks of flour were kept. "Hay Mo,(mum) like the red bloomers. Not that he will care. What a funny thing to say I thought. I was taken into the proving room to help roll out some bread cakes with one of the women, it was fun.
The next time I went to the bakery I was picked up from school and took streight there. On arrival only Mr Miller was there, I was given a glass of pop and a sandwich while Mum and Mr Miller were chatting in the door way.
Mr miller said I would be fine for half an hour, and gave me a job of jamming some doughnuts. I did a good job as I remember, taking the doughnuts off the wire from the deep fat fryer then putting the on a bed of sugar and dusting them. Finally putting the jam in with the foot pumped machine that did two doughnut at a time.
On hindsight what the hell was they doing letting a eight or nine year old lose in such dangerous place on their own? But I did get a couple of doughnut to take home.
I told dad about me doing the doughnuts for Mr Miller, while mum helped with the accounts, he didn't seem very pleased. I thought he would have been proud of me doing so well.
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