Chair.
Thinking of a chair
summoned in my mind my chair as a kid in Nain and Tide’s house in North Wales.
A perfectly ordinary straight-backed chair in a special position. It was at the
dining table which was covered with oil-cloth in green squares and right beside
the fire, which was pretty good as it got cold. Not so much snow as howling gales
and driving rain – made inside that much snugger.
I remember that fireplace,
it used coal, there was a big brass polished scuttle which was too heavy for me
to fill, and boxes either side with cushions on top and a polished brass rail
between. If good and careful I was allowed to use the brass tongs to put a lump
on the fire. The mantelpiece above packed with photos, I has more aunties and uncles than I could easily remember.
Mealtime, under the eyes
of distant Staffordshire china dogs on the dresser, was always a time to remember. The
highlight was of course pudding and the best of the best was
bread-and-butter-pudding, all golden with raisins on top, layer after layer
washed down with a cup of milky tea from the big brown pot under the green
tea-cosy.
I’d get served before
even Tide, though had to wait for everyone before digging in.
Security, love,
warmth.
Croix (Thanks for offering me that chair Nat)
