Smells Of The Past

[paul mann]

It's the smells of the past that get the memories started fo' me. A neyt ott at the pitchas, fag smoke and B.O. at the Prince Of Wales when it was packed then oot inte the cahd neyt air an' the smell o' fish an' chips an' vinegar.

Autumn was another one, wet leaves and Harvest Fest - the smell of ahll the vegetables in dank ahd St. Cuthbert's Church afore the baskets went oot te the miner's cottages.

[Symptoms]

When trimming Elderberry bushes in my various gardens over the years - ALWAYs evokes childhood memories of treehouses we built in a large Elderberry tree which grew in 'The Cut' between the allotments at the back of our house in East Riggs.  Elderberry, for those who don't know, has quite a pungent honk when the stems are cut/snapped.

[paul mann]

Honk! Yes! Forgotten all about that lovely word for a pong.

[Tonyp]

Glaxos at Cambois that was rank sure bupal smelt nicer

[Alan Edgar (Eggy1948)]

1962-3 - can't remember the name of the farm - East Sleekburn - helping Alan Thompson (from Bolam Place) the farm milkman; potato and egg man; haystack builder etc. etc  gathering in the eggs from the battery hen shed. My mate, Alex Third, and I thought we could cope with with any smell. Shovel up the cow patts from the yard, doddle. Next task to clean out the pig sty; three pens on each side of the building. Fork and shovel one load of muck from the furthest away sty into the middle sty - splat splat splat. Fork and shovel two loads into the end sty, double splattering. Fork and shovel three loads out of the first sty into the doorway to pile up with the three loads from the other 3 pens - splat and double splat. Fork and shovel 6 pen loads of pig mashed droppings onto the trailer. That was bad enough but when we were asked to go into the hen shed and fill an egg carton tray we found out what 'smells from the past' really was. Think the trays held 30 eggs so shouldn't take long; each cage with 10 hens and I think 3 or 4 cages stacked on top of each other. Each cage with it's own chute for the eggs to roll down into a collecting channel. Each of us just to go down one line and fill up a tray.

 

The stench at the entrance to the shed made us cockle and stop -  "If you want paying you have to finish the job" would be the cry. Empty egg tray balanced on one hand; breath held, into the valley (shed) of death strode the two workers. You couldn't even guarantee to pick up 30 solid eggs! Many of the egg shells, as a result of the forced feeding, had not formed properly and you occasionally picked up, what looked like a solid egg, a soft shell that split and 'slurped' over your hand. Each cage had approximately 10 hens and at least one, in each cage, was dead.

 

So when you combine the hundreds of hens' 10% (approx) dead, piles of hen droppings, the heat in the shed; the rotting deformed eggs I have to put that smell down to the worst I remember from the past.

 

Strange how I still enjoy an egg, with a runny yolk! 

[Symptoms]

Egg's reference to "cow platts" reminds me of blasting the stuff over 1st years at school.  In the month or so before bonfire night bangers and other cheapo fireworks were bought at Adamson's shop.  At lunchtime us big lads would march large numbers of 1st years over to the field (Meadowdale Farm ... but I can't at the moment remember the farmer's name) opposite Westridge's main gate.  We would select half a dozen victims from our captives and make them stand in a circle around a freshly laid platt,  one of us big lads would rush in with a lit banger and stuff it into the centre of the platt then make a quick exit.  The boom was followed by exploding dollops of sticky brown shit flying out to cover the 1st years ... they didn't half honk.  Then the next half dozen victims were selected.  What fun.

 

I'm not sure that egg production has changed much since Egg's shit-shovelling days.

[Maggie/915]

There were the 'Muck' deliveries.

Then both street and garden had the same smell.

The smell of burning coal must remind all the oldies of home in Bedlongton

The farmers opposite Westridge were 'the Hall's' I think.

[John Fox (foxy)]

The farmers opposite Westridge were 'the Hall's' I think.

Jack Hall,

                     and the Pony that chased everyone that Symp will probably remember was " Hector"

[paul mann]

I remember the bagie field ahint Westridge, I got caught there by the farmer and his lad one day while I was cuttin' through to get away from some big lads. He thought I was stealin' bagies.