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It all started in 1968 when I was born at Lucy Baldwin's
Maternity Home in Stourport-on-Severn in Worcestershire in the West midlands,
UK. Actually I suppose it all started nine months prior to that, which surprisingly enough is my father's birthday, so we can all tell
what he got for his birthday that year ;o)
i am told that when I was newly born, the first thing I did was to piss all over
the nurse who attempted to weigh me, so that perhaps was an early sign that I
might like water skiing or other types of water sports as I grew older.
(Heehee). I was an inquisitive child, so I am told, into everything, and nothing
has changed nowadays. When I learnt that I could roll around the floor of the
front room, I became mobile. I was able to explore my surroundings, but the only
problem was that I could only roll in one direction, and apparently I would
scream the house down once I reached an immovable object to be turned round so
that I could roll back again.
One question that most people ask or are asked at some point is "What is your
earliest memory". Mine involves the demolition of a supporting wall in my
parent’s house, an RSJ (Rolled Steel Joist), some bricks and the upstairs
banister. Mum and Dad had decided to knock the two main downstairs rooms into
one, and to do that they had to remove several layers of bricks from the affore-mentioned
brick wall, and insert a girder into the space, to support the upstairs of the
house. Unfortunately the only way that my father could get a girder of the
specific size in was to tie a rope around it and haul it in through their
bedroom window. Once upstairs, they removed the skirting boards in their
bedroom, and positioned the girder into the hole. To enable them to get it onto
both supporting walls, they had to pass it through the gap where their skirting
boards were, and stick the end out onto the landing. The next step involved my
father lifting the girder from downstairs, whilst it was pushed into place from
the landing. The only problem being that my mother couldn’t get enough leverage
on the landing to push it in, so at the age of 3 or 4 it was Gareth to the
rescue! I was positioned with my back to the banister, with bricks to fill the
gap between my feet and the girder, and when my father lifted the girder from
down stairs I had to extend my legs and push it into place. I remember it like
it was yesterday!
Another early memory I have is tripping on the paving stones at Aberystwyth and
plunging head first down towards the rocks, to be stopped in the nick of time by
lightening quick reflexes of my father who grabbed my ankle as I dived under the
railings ... thanx Dad, I owe you one for that!
Various other memories float around, certain toys, cleaning the central
heating boiler out, and Dad reciting "A Christmas Carol" to my sister and I on
the nights leading up towards Christmas. Talking of Christmas, I also remember
rushing downstairs on the weeks leading up to that festive occasion, to see if
the front room had been transformed into a glittering palace of Christmas
delights. When it had, I would lay under the Christmas tree, and look up through
its branches at the glittering tinsel and lights!
I remember my father saying that it was the spirit of Christmas that you
should believe in, not just the father Christmas stuff, although that is
important, but to remember that as I grew older, and Christmas would still be a
time of great enjoyment ... and it is today.
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