Friends

Showing posts with label cards. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cards. Show all posts

23 May 2013

TELLING TALES

It’s lovely to receive greetings cards on birthdays or Christmas but what do you do with yours after the event? People give them to charities, or the recycling unit, or even strip them down for reuse. When I say reuse, I mean cut them up to make gift tags or decoration on home-made cards. But in the old days of rationing and lack of cash the cards could be used again. It was easy because most had an inserted leaf with printed greeting that could be removed so no-one was aware that the card had been reprocessed.

My mother wouldn’t admit to such a practice but she did it nonetheless. She would carefully remove the insert and checked the card for indentations from pen nibs, random ink blots, and other betraying signs, before writing her own greeting.

I don’t expect many people wrote to thank the senders of cards but we did acknowledge presents that way. Unlike today, I might add. Often now it’s an email or nothing. I cannot remember how old I was but I was old enough to write thank you letters, which I did with passion. Here’s what I wrote to a pseudo aunt. She was no relation, just my mother’s friend, but we were very respectful in those days. Here's the gist of my message:

Dear Auntie Carrie. 
Thank you for the lovely present and the Christmas card. Mommy liked the card. She showed it to everybody. She said she could see where you tore out the paper from the middle so you could use it again. It made everyone laugh. 
Lots of love, Valerie.  

Mom nearly killed me when she received Auntie Carrie’s letter. They didn’t speak for years after that, no matter that Mom was as guilty as her friend when it came to reusing cards. As you can imagine I grew up knowing that whatever I wrote could be taken down and used in evidence if I didn’t choose words carefully.  

It's my birthday today... perhaps that's why I went back in time to an almost long-forgotten incident. Cheers, everyone.

25 February 2010

Old communications

Sifting through the old photographs for my Sepia Saturday blog I discovered these old greeting cards, along with various notes and scribbles done by me when I was young. Parents do love to save everything made by their offspring but I never magined they'd still be around so many years later.

First are three glossy postcard style greeting cards which were sent just as they are, without an envelope, a bit like the postcards sent from holiday resorts

Written by me, and including Gordon, the son of people I stayed with in WW2.
I always counted the amount of 'kisses' ... probably needing to prove I could count


and on the back

Next is a card that had to be coloured.
I thought my crayoning skills were pretty good for a youngster.

and inside

According to a note on the back, this is the first Christmas card I ever made
at the age of seven.
I've improved since then!

and inside ... Wot! No kisses?

Now for a couple of notes from me to Dad


A message sent to parents from my wartime evacuation address

For the whole of the war years I was billeted with Mom and Dad's friends, pseudo Aunt Carrie and Uncle Fred ... Dad's best man at his wedding. At the time Dad's woodwork skills were put to good use inside airplanes. With so many men occupied with war, women had to take their place on the work front. Mom was taken on as a bus conductress and I still have the piece of shrapnel that one day fell at her feet as she walked to work.

For the youngsters wartime was more of an adventure than something to fear. Blackouts didn't worry us and the sweeping searchlights seemed spectacular to young kids. Parties in the air raid shelters were fun and defying air raid wardens even more so. Gordon's sister, Diane, was born while I lived there ... a real war baby.

Maybe one day I'll write more about the half-remembered experience of wartime from a child's point of view.