It `aint `alf `ot mum  …. .. Tizer with Rosie

 

My first summer had been spent in the pram with my sister Rosemary, (Rosie for short). I was born in the month of March, I was soon to be up and running a bit later this year,  although I still hadn`t got the hang of these new fangled things called words yet, but I was trying …very trying (so mum said).

 

Tea was on the table, jam and bread..and a piece of "Madeira" cake that granny had sent down to us from Norwich as a special treat. We used to look forward to her food parcels, there would always be a little something sweet in there for us kids. She kept free-range chickens and so had lots of eggs to spare, so she baked a lot. (Eggs were still on ration in our local shop. You couldn`t use your ration cards in just any shop you liked.)

I was put into my high chair next to the table by Mum. Rosie, (being older) was able to sit on one of the tall backed brown wooden chairs (with a seat section made of yellow woven straw).

I got a leg smack with my tea, it didn`t hurt too much though.. (not like some). I got it because I was trying to reach out for my dish on the table. In doing so I had dragged the shiny table cloth off to one side a bit, and dad had seen me doing it.

(The shiny waterproof cloth was to stop the green beize table cover from getting spoiled by liquids or food, the table was in the back living room.)

We used to sit down for meals, all of us around the table, with the radio on, every tea-time…(just like in the movies). I remember my sister Rosie having a small oval shaped dish of Egg Custard (with brown nutmeg on top) placed in front of her for several days on end when ever we sat down to eat.

After the second day it had gone all watery. She didn`t like the taste of it, even though it was a bit like jelly, all slippery and very wobbly.

We kids weren`t allowed to waste our food, and despite gesturing to Mum if I could eat instead of Rosie, back came the answer.. "She`ll have to eat it up or go without!" it was always the same with un-eaten food.

(I wonder who did eat it in the end?) We children got used to eating up our food quickly without talking, and you didn`t dare leave anything edible on your plate. (If you did you would get a taste of the thin bamboo cane Mum used to keep on her side of the table.)

 

 

“When I could really talk”

 

In the garden I watched as the bees disappeared into the "snap-dragons" mouths … at first I thought they had been trapped inside and were dead.

But after a while came a "buzz" and the bee backed out of the flower coated with pollen, a yellowy coloured powder on its back. Off into the next one they would go, and so on. The "foxglove" flowers had the bee licked though, they were sort of trumpet shaped and the bees could only get into the big ones near the bottom of the stems.

 

The Privet moths had been around as well, laying their eggs. In among the small dark green leaves and dense branches. Seething masses of small white caterpillars was hanging from some of the hedges. All twisting and whirrling round each other. I reached up and grabbed a few, and they went all squshy in my hand … (didn`t taste very good either!).

So, I threw them down on the grass and went indoors for a drink. “Dink ,Dink” says I, Mum knew what I meant and she got me my cup and turned on the brass cold water tap. "Sscwoosh …" went the water into the bottom. “Here you are, and don`t spill it mind !!“ said Mother. I wandered off and found Rosie in the front room, she was busy looking out the window.

Her hip splint and plaster of paris bandage was off now, and she could climb up onto the settee and watch the road for a car or two to go by … (only one person in our part of the street owned a car then, Mr Brooks at No.52 who used to work for the Admiralty).

 

The “Rag & Bone“ mans call  “RAG BONE, RAG BONE !!!“ was getting louder all the time, we could see his cart. It was loaded up with old clothes and it had a bunch of ballons tied to one corner. A balloon or some sweets was usually given in exchange for old worn out clothing. This "payment" encouraged the children to ask their parents if they could give anything away to the "Rag & Bone man". I`m sure a lot of very good and useful clothing was given away by mistake at times like this. You could also take stuff to the various scrap dealers like "Cleverlys" yard near the Old Bridge in Bath. Another yard was near Green Park by the river in Avon Street. The noise of the wooden cart wheels was drowned out by a lorry engine coming the other way up our road.

 

“Corona man .. mum , quick !! .. it`s the Corona man !“….  Rosie was good with words, she was two and a half years old. I was busy waiting for mine, (but not for too long as it happens). The moment was interrupted by Mum shouting from the kitchen “Rosie! ..  quick get the empties, they`re under the stairs .. make sure the man gives you the money back on the bottles", (a deposit of 3d (1.2p) was paid on drink bottles then, to make sure they were returned and not thrown away). "Quick Rosie before he drives off again !!” (Mum was good at organising people).

The front door scuffed the lino and the brass door fender as it opened up, Mum was quickly down the path and had opened the gate. Rosie shot by her with two empty bottles and was soon out in the road heading toward the Corona lorry with its steep sloping sides full of crates of different drinks. I followed Rosie, slowly going down off the pavement and across the road. Rosie was shouting back at Mum “ Tizer Mum ..aaawww please ! … not Orangeade .. or Lemonade, Tizer .. please Mum !"

 

Caught up in the excitement, I was breathing fast, I quickly pushed some air through my throat, and I knew straight away what I had done and that I`d cracked it at last !!! … “ Tizur, Tizur !“ I cried out without thinking … weird it was, the sound just sort of fell out. Rosie grabbed the bottle from the Corona man and passed it to me. It was glass, big, red and heavy (in that order). Mum, by now was speaking again too ..“and a bottle of Dandelion and Burdock please Mister .. your Dad likes that one Rosie“

 

I didn`t check to see if the front door had been closed, I was off into the back room like a shot, my cup in hand. Jostling for position with Rosie. I was  straining my leags, reaching up to the table for my fill of “Tizur“. The Tizer bottle stopper was made of black bakelite plastic, flat on the top, with ridges all round so you could grip it. The lower part was twisted into a spiral  (like a corkscrew) with a red rubber ring on it to seal the fizzy in. I watched transfixed as the top was unscrewed with a loud “Fiisssss“ by Mum. “Me, me first“…shouted Rosie, eager and expectant, her mug in hand. She had got both our mugs from the Kitchen draining board. She grabbed hers so quickly off the sloping grooved wooden board that she nearly dropped it.

 

“All right , settle down you two“. Mum was in control again. We watched  as the bottle went upright when Mum placed it back on the table. I could see the bubbles growing on the glass sides, bigger and bigger, until they shot off up to the top, where they exploded with a little “snick” noise.

I put my mug to my mouth, the bubbles coming up splashed my face, some went up my nose, and the rest sprayed into my eyes over the edge of the mug. I slowly drank some Tizur and winced, I pulled a wierd face as my tongue went all funny and "sizzly" on the end. “Uugh“, I went, but it tasted lovely …

 

Tizur eh?

 

My first real word….             

 

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