trinkie
11-Oct-06, 10:48
Thank you Martin Bremner for such wonderful pictures of Waves at the Trinkie.
Late 1940s - Of course we seldom visited that area once summer had gone, but as long as the days were bright and warm we would set off with our picnic and swimming gear.
For me the Bathing Costume was made by my grannie. Knitted with old wool unravelled from a jumper once worn by my father. There was little about it that I liked - except that it was better than wearing just my knickers !
The wool was scratchy, the colour dull beyond words, and once in the water it became heavier and heavier, until it was sagging down around my knees in a most unladylike fashion! I could hardly walk with the weight of wet wool !
The picnic however was a great treat. Big slices of bread with butter and jam, treacle or syrup. A Fancy Cake with icing on the top , and to drink, Iron Bru from the Lemonade Factory in Rutherford Street - nothing else would do.
Old towels and rugs had been found for our comfort, and once at the Trinkie we searched out our favourite spot and sheltered down out of the wind.
After a quick dip we were ready for our picnic and out came the goodies.
And down came the Scorries - who had been hovering around waiting, waiting.
Swoosh, straight from my hand went the big slice of bread. 'Mammy!! '
I yelled as the Scorrie flew over to the cliff.
Mum handed me another piece and I quickly took a huge bite. Then Swoosh the second sandwich was quickly snatched by another Scorrie who gobbled it up in a oner !
'Put your towel over your heads' said mum, as we reached for some cake.
And the Scorries screeched, and squawked in disapproval, as we munched and munched beneath our damp towel.
Soon it was time to go home.......Happy Memories indeed !
Late 1940s - Of course we seldom visited that area once summer had gone, but as long as the days were bright and warm we would set off with our picnic and swimming gear.
For me the Bathing Costume was made by my grannie. Knitted with old wool unravelled from a jumper once worn by my father. There was little about it that I liked - except that it was better than wearing just my knickers !
The wool was scratchy, the colour dull beyond words, and once in the water it became heavier and heavier, until it was sagging down around my knees in a most unladylike fashion! I could hardly walk with the weight of wet wool !
The picnic however was a great treat. Big slices of bread with butter and jam, treacle or syrup. A Fancy Cake with icing on the top , and to drink, Iron Bru from the Lemonade Factory in Rutherford Street - nothing else would do.
Old towels and rugs had been found for our comfort, and once at the Trinkie we searched out our favourite spot and sheltered down out of the wind.
After a quick dip we were ready for our picnic and out came the goodies.
And down came the Scorries - who had been hovering around waiting, waiting.
Swoosh, straight from my hand went the big slice of bread. 'Mammy!! '
I yelled as the Scorrie flew over to the cliff.
Mum handed me another piece and I quickly took a huge bite. Then Swoosh the second sandwich was quickly snatched by another Scorrie who gobbled it up in a oner !
'Put your towel over your heads' said mum, as we reached for some cake.
And the Scorries screeched, and squawked in disapproval, as we munched and munched beneath our damp towel.
Soon it was time to go home.......Happy Memories indeed !