Latest posts by Palaisglide


Posted: 08/12/2017 at 11:46

Ian R, Unwashed carrots must have given me an immune system to beat them all, those years I spent abroad never once did I have an upset stomach when all around were falling like flies. I would never have washed them in the water tank as Dad used it to make his home made fertiliser, he collected animal droppings in a sand bag then hung it in the tank for a week or so, he always had one tank ready and a cupful in a watering can did the trick. Mind you had to watch which cup you made your tea in at times.


What is your weather like? (2)

Posted: 08/12/2017 at 10:02

Stockton dry and sunny, no sign of the big storm as yet touch wood. It may well be waiting for me to go out later then ambush me all dressed for a summer day. Better wear my Teddy bear coat just in case.


What is your weather like? (2)

Posted: 07/12/2017 at 12:00

Stockton is dull though dry. I had a dentist check up appointment so out early and found it quite warm. The forecast is sun later.



Posted: 06/12/2017 at 20:23

Panic stations call A&E tell them I am coming as many moons ago when i was a lad I half inched Carrots, out door tomato's, fruit and even peas eating the case with a wipe of my hand. Mind saying that it is taking a long time.

The USA have been genetically changing wheat and other grains could that be relevant?


Nothing to do with gardening vent

Posted: 06/12/2017 at 10:32

Lyn, Stockton had a huge open air market with stalls along the full length of the High Street, people came from miles around because there were trains and busses to everywhere. The stall holders would stack the rubbish including waste fruit and veg for the bin waggon and a lot of towns people got their weekly fruit and veg from those stacks of waste having to hurry to beat the bin men. A far different world.

Raisingirl, we had one Bobby who lived in the village and a lot of big houses, he did the same. He would knock on the door I would answer in trepidation wondering what Mother had done now (she had no respect for traffic laws) but it would be the tickets for the police ball, my parents being keen dancers, he always left with a piece of bacon in his pocket probably to turn a blind eye when Mother did it again. He had white gloves one filled with dry beans, if we lads crossed him we got a smack over the head with that glove and it hurt, we respected him and made sure we behaved when he was around better than todays going to court being told they are naughty then getting away with it. We also had six butchers shops in the village three with abattoirs, animals escaped and the Bobby had a military rifle, he would shoot the animal as it rampaged down the high street with us lads enjoying the spectacle, H&S would have fits if that happened today.


Nothing to do with gardening vent

Posted: 05/12/2017 at 21:41

Leaving high school at sixteen and going straight into an apprenticeship in an engineering works it was very obvious the class system was alive and well. Most of the younger element had left school from twelve to thirteen, none made it to the official age of 14. They did the mundane and labouring jobs where as the apprentices had mentors and even Friday afternoons at day school unheard of normally at the time. I was friendly with two lads my age who literally had to work for me, I was on piece work they got a little extra if I told the foreman they had pulled their weight. Their lunch was a fresh loaf from the bakery round the corner torn in half to share and filled with a small bottle of brown sauce, that was every day whilst I went to the canteen for a good lunch paid for by Mr Brown who wanted his apprentices fit and strong.

Ours was a small village surrounded by Market gardens and Farms we also got plenty of rabbits and birds in season good food was what we expected and got, it mainly came out of the gardens and from the farms. Mother Bottled preserved pickled made jam all collected from the orchards and hedgerows, she also put down eggs for the off season in Isinglass we could crack an egg Christmas morning and it was as fresh as the day it was laid. The people in the town back to back street houses were not as well fed, poverty was rife and that was not like today where they are poor if they do not have a 50 inch TV and magic phone that does everything bar fry eggs. The Baby boomers never saw this side of life and supermarkets put an end to food grown within the area, we have one market garden left out of dozens that have now been built on.

Then we got the experts on diet, I should be dead having eaten Bacon Eggs Fried bread most of my life plus of course gallons of tea also bad for us until this year when they suddenly found what we always knew tea is good for us after all. My children grew up with good home cooked food my Grandchildren get a lot of takeaways, I dread to think I could out live my Grandchildren.

Sorry about the history lesson I will cease now.


Nothing to do with gardening vent

Posted: 05/12/2017 at 10:48

B3. Thank my family. Around 2000 they were all here for tea, My wife was not well and i had made all the bread scones cakes and tarts which vanished very quickly plus the home cooked ham what was left of that went home with them, "oh well" cook another then.

Dad said number two Daughter, we know nothing about you before we were born you and Mum never talk about it, true, we had learned to get on with living after seeing the things we saw. I had just got a new computer and printer so started to put the story together for them. One of my Daughters contacted BBC the WW2 history programme and in time they made me a researcher ending up on Camera. That made other boards contact me including the Library's local history and I still write for them. I have hundreds of pictures once having been a keen photographer though never a good one and can remember where I was and the event where they were taken so the history for the family now covers three files.

Some I tell some will never be told, my outlook on life was you never know, we knew it could be cut short anytime so look on the sunny side and Pamela said it cannot all have been funny, I told her when you are up to your neck in mud and some one is trying to take your head off smile, it could be worse.


Nothing to do with gardening vent

Posted: 05/12/2017 at 09:48

Raisingirl better than senna tea we got to keep us clean inside and out.

Aunty Rach I always made the gravy from being a lad, Mother said men should cook and she was a trained cook. In those days the Sunday roast was a large piece of meat (we were a village among farms my Uncles had two and we had a smallholding), The meat would go in the oven to slow roast and we went off to Church then it was preparation. The meat would come out of one roasting tin and into another then into the warming oven to rest. The first tin was for the Yorkshires with all the lovely juices. When everything was nearly ready I had been cooking the onions down slowly with a drop of fat and a touch of water plus a dusting of sugar, they caramelised beautifully. Then the meat that had been resting would go on a plate and the juices from that process in the tin went on the stove, a couple of spoons full of flour to make a  roue then the onions and beef stock added, we always had pans of stock on the go, I would stir cooking off the flour and making a smooth gravy, we did not put it through a sieve it went into a jug and was served up.

Meat was always light brown apart from Ham I have no memory of eating meat still bleeding as you see on TV today but then our meat was hung for a month or more and we did not eat the bacon until it had hung for nearly six months. Mothers table never saw a sauce bottle of any kind, she made them or I did. Uncle Peter a steel worker would sit down for lunch and ask for sauce, the answer was it is in the jug.


Nothing to do with gardening vent

Posted: 04/12/2017 at 19:05

B3, not being a snake eater (SAS) we had to have the weevils instead, still it was all meat?

Scroggin, next time you head North take the Irish sea route as the real Yorkshire people will ambush you. Yorkshire pudding does not come in SLABS, it raises lightly from the roasting tin wafting a perfume of lovely meat juices and gently settles on your plate, the trick being to pin it down with your fork and pour on the glorious onion gravy, that should hold it down long enough to eat it letting it caress your taste buds giving a feeling of ecstasy  that lasts a week.

When my late wife Joan took me home for Sunday lunch the first time it was nearly the last. Dad Brother Mother and myself got the usual plateful to start with gravy, Joan to my horror proceeded to baste hers with butter and jam, my flabber was totally gasted, it seemed like the end of a beautiful romance. Love won over stomach and forever after I got my lovely Yorkshires and Joan had her own often cold for tea with butter and jam, the fact that I could not watch such sacrilege meant I did a lot of gardening.


Nothing to do with gardening vent

Posted: 04/12/2017 at 15:39

B3, steady on there let me tell you Princess Anne has partaken of said Parmo and is in favour. Then having ridden horses and the odd camel I know the churning up of the stomach acids needs something vapid or as you say beige. We found Corn beef from a tin mixed with hard tack biscuit hammered to a dust then mixed in and the whole fried in a mess tin over a Benghazi burner sort of did the trick. We did not recommend the Nile or Port said Sauce not knowing what went in it though the smell was a clue.


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1 to 15 of 16 threads