I have been following the Magpie Tales blog for a while now and have really enjoyed reading poetry and insights which are prompted from a picture presented by Willow. I'm a bit late, as usual, but this particular picture reminded me so much of a little cottage I went to visit in Chertsey in the early 1990's. The cottage belonged to my ex-husband's great-grandmother, and his grandmother (his mum's mum) lived in it until she married just before world war two. It was in a particularly bad state when we went to see it, having been neglected for many years with overgrown plantation surrounding the once extravagant garden and grounds. As we walked through the rooms, empty and oppressive, my ex-mother-in-law became rather emotional as she suddenly stumbled upon what would have been a luxurious bathroom for such a depressed period in our history. Still containing the original cast iron bath, albeit filled with spider's webs, she was able to visualise her own mother as a child, running through the house, enjoying her childhood in those early years. Perhaps the cottage has since been bought and knocked to the ground, an enthusiastic builder making way for pipes and telephone lines instead of the wishing well that could have made dreams come true.
My own house is a grand Georgian edifice with large rooms and high ceilings, doors that would have been unable to fit snugly within the walls of the Chertsey cottage. Yet I see so much history in my home, children running through each room, paled water carried to a deep cast iron bath, a summertime where indoors would have been a rare sight. There will always be a tale to tell about the activity of a life once lived and after remembering that pretty little building on a main road in the south of England, I fondly recall that sweet old lady who once held my hand as she said, "be happy, that is what it's all about".
