Up the wooden hill

Now that you know where the necessary facilities are let’s go back into the house, back into the hall.  Just a quick look around and then we’ll go upstairs.

The telephone when it finally arrived, was put in the hall.  That was the usual place in British homes at the time.  Halls were cold, draughty places and that was the way to keep the phone bill down. 

There was one other door off the hall, but we won’t open it, thank you very much!  Directly inside the door was a steep flight of steps down to the cellar and it looked very dark and frightening.  I, for one, never ventured down those steps.  

Anyway, let’s go up the stairs.  It was made up of two flights and there was a small room at the half landing.  I’m not sure what it was for and the only thing I can ever remember being there was a rather depressed aspidistra.  At least it depresses me to remember it!  Anyway let’s go right to the top of the stairs and turn left where there were three lovely bedrooms, two double and one single, all of which overlooked the front garden.   

I’m sorry to mention “the facilities” again, but under each bed was a chamber pot.  These inevitably gathered nicknames.  Gerry.  Po.  Gazunda.  Flying saucer.  Whatever you called it, it still had to be emptied in the morning.

Those bedrooms were unbelievably cold in the winter.  I used to roll up my clothes and keep them in bed with me so that they were warm enough to put on in the morning.  I was never a child who took great pride in her appearance!