Posted: 23/07/2014 at 22:57
Auto biography!!!! hang on a minute. This has made think. Oh, there I go again. This thinking lark will be the ruin of me. To be frank, I am still thinking about a post of a member. She quoted, that I was a cantankerous git. Where did that come frome?? I must confess. My biggest problem in life apart from me is. I can't let go. I will freely forgive, but sad to say. I have a photographic memory.
Lets press on. Pauline, how strange you have lived in Erith. Believe me, to see the market in Woolwich now. You would want to puke. The Royal Arsenal has long gone. The main gate still stands but it's unrecognizable. Beresford Square market. Remember all the stalls, the veg stalls, then the fish stalls, then the fruit etc. the flower stalls, Fowlers the leather and bag stall. Then the high pavement. The old cinema went ages ago just as the supermarkets were starting up. There was a husband and wife team running a plant stall. We became good friends. Actually many of the stall holders knew me and my family, so to shop with them, usually a good deal took place. Often when Val and I were first married, we'd get our veg et there. More often than not I hand over the money and get the same amount back as change plus big smile and a wink. Sadly those days are long gone. Dad and I used to deal with Arthur Fowler on the leather stall. At an early age, I learned how to sole and heel boots and shoes, so our supplies came from him. Back to the plant stall. This guy had a nursery in West Malling. He grew loads of roses amongst other things. We got chatting etc. By this time I had left the police and the parks and was now head gardener at the Royal Herbert Hospital. A military hospital. I had been asked to take on this position. Two 75 foot greenhouses vast grounds. Hey ho. In time a driver delivering medical gases, came around to the greenhouses. Hi Mick. Yes says I, thats me. Hi, I'm Alf. I work for BOG british Oxygen Gases. Hand shakes . Mick you seem to have a reputation. Mick jokenly, yes, six months in Wandsworth. Two years in the scrubs. I can still see Alf almost peeing himself with laughter. No, serious Mick. Down at our depot we have a bit of a gardening club. We were wondering if you could keep us supplied. Well Alf. I have this agreement with the hospital, that as long as I do my job, the rest is mine. So a pact was made. I grew and sold on the plants. I had bought the seed. Then came the question. Can you get us some roses.? Yes mate. Hey Mick don't go near Mills in the market, he's crap. For once mick stayed quiet. In time Alf returns with a multi page list. I consulted Millsie. Yes mate, no problems. So one day Gets a shout from security. This was at the time of a certain bombing spate. Mr Allen, there is a pantechnicon at the main gate, with a load of roses. Thanks mate, send him around. In time the load arrives. The driver is pi****** himself with laughter. Whats up Dave. Mike, Adolph at the gate, he insisted on checking the load. He's not going to lioke you. He's had more pricks and scratches than a pin cushion. We unloaded. Bye the bye. I added just one shilling to the cost of each plant. Believe it or not. Alf lives in the next street to my daughter Amanda. He's now well into his eighties, sadly he lost his wife about ten years ago. We often meet up in the supermarket, and he still comments on those fantastic roses. Once again a very long friendship. I will do my best to vist Woolwich soon, and take a few piccies. To be honest although I still consider I can take care of myself. Woolwich and me. NO GO.