U3A Writing: Reminiscing At The Library
Marjorie Upson visits her local library and gets involved in a pleasurable session of reminiscing.
I left home rather later than usual this morning and called at the library in Elland to deliver of couple of posters for coming events. Red, white and blue bunting was across the entrance, and there were large posters about, saying that today was the International Day for the Elderly.
It was the first I’d heard about it. Terry Wogan hadn’t mentioned it on the Old Geysers and Gals programme this morning. Mind you, I had been away for almost two weeks and had not been into the town much since my return.
All sorts of things were happening. There was a craft class going on, which was very busy. One or two people sat with numerous sheets of paper, offering advice, and in the children’s room it said, ‘Poetry and Reminiscing’. I thought, “I’ll just pop in and see.”
Two ladies were sitting at a table, and another lady I knew who lived locally and wrote a bit of poetry. One of the ladies was reading from a book, ‘The Way We Were’. Having just mentioned Radio Luxembourg, she broke off and asked us if we had ever experienced trouble in trying to tune in.
I don’t ever remember tuning in to listen to the pop music programmes which they were discussing, but did remember that on Sunday teatimes Harry Hemsley would be on with the Ovaltinies - Elsie?, and Winnie and baby Horace. Harry did all the voices, and I remember he used to say, “What did Horace say, Winnie?”
This sparked off other discussions about Children’s Hour and Uncle Mac. The book was read a bit more, the author having got the names of the presenters wrong, calling one Aunty Dorothy, when I distinctly remember it was Auntie Doris (Gamble) and Auntie Muriel (Levy) and sometimes Auntie Vi (Violet Carson), who played the piano. I also seem to think that the three of them sang as the ‘Three Semis’.
Out with Romany was touched on, when Romany would go for a walk in the countryside with Doris and Muriel, whilst all the time they were in the studio with recorded bird song. How innocent we all were in those days. The other lady read a poem by Roger McGough called ‘Scintillate’, and we discussed poetry which I had written.
Sadly, I had to leave as I had other calls to make, and reminisce with another old friend who I visit on Friday mornings.
