Margaret

this is the living text archive of margaret inglis ◎HOME ◎ THIS IS 1959 ◎ INTERVIEWS ◎ IMAGES ◎ General: home life, family, daily life, friends, religion, neighbourhood School: school life, primary, secondary Occasions: holidays, trips, summer, winter, Christmas People: Mum, Dad, Granny Madigan, Granny Kelly, Pop Kelly, Tom, Auntie Mary, Margaret Robinson Misc: chores, clothing, food, cinema, games, books, pets, medical, loss ‏‏

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Sunday nights the gang gathered in Philben's doorway and ghost stories were told. I was terrified to go up the three flights of my stairs after that, and used to run all the way, be totally out of breath and hammered on the door to get in. The bigger boys knew we girls were 'scaredys’ and would hide in the back entry of the close and make ghostly moaning noises to frighten us, as they knew full well that we were terrified to go into the close after the ghostly tales.

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There used to be seasons for things. No one seemed to know who started them, but it became the ‘time’ for peevers, skip-ropes, rounders in the back green, etc and these carried on for a time till something else replaced it. One of my favourites things was playing with a tennis ball tied into a leg of granny’s old stocking and swung against the wall, or side to side on the ground.

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I had a big collection of scrap paper picture cut-outs of things like flowers, cherub angels, Santa Clause, dolls and toys. They were sold in packets of 4 or 6 or 10. The best ones to have were the shiny ones or ‘shineys’. Usually it was only the girls who collected and exchanged them. They were kept between the pages of a book and carried back and forth to school to exchange there, or we sat in the closes and exchanged them.  

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Saturday morning was the shopping day, and I had to go to a collection of shops to get certain items. Lawrence Smith the grocer at 61 Pleasance, Lipton's Dairy in Nicholson Street, Gallagher’s Fish shop in West Richmond Street, the Butchers in West Richmond Street, Philben's the Greengrocer in Richmond street, Jimmy the Dairy in the Pleasance, Irvine’s the Baker in Richmond Street and Littlejohn’s the Bakers at St. Patrick’s Square.  

After each shop I had to take the messages back to the house to have the one and only shopping bag emptied. There was a separate bag for the fruit and veg which was always dirty because nothing was wrapped in those days. Sometimes I had to take used paper bags and bread wrappers to the shops to wrap some items in.

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I remember Roy Rogers, Dale Evans, and Trigger his horse came to the Empire theatre and there was a picture in the Edinburgh Evening news. I went to the backstage door to get an autograph but we were chased away 

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There was a little shop almost opposite the Royal Infirmary I used to pass on the way to school which sold fabulous tablet slabs. They were really hard tablet but lasted ages as you had to suck them to melt them. I used to sometimes go there on a Saturday after I got money for the pictures and buy one, which would last me for ages in the cinema. 

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My favourite shop of all was the wee sweetie shop down the Pleasance and my favourites were dolly mixtures, (especially the pink heart shaped one) black striped balls, toffee doddles, satin cushions, sherbet lemons, sticks of rhubarb rock, Berwick cockles and everton mints. If the younger woman served me, she always put in an extra one for being ‘good’. 

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Boolins in Davie Street was the best place for chips. They also sold 3d bags of scrap ends of the batter off the fish and things. Sometimes for a special treat I was sent to a chippy in Bristo Street for their battered fritters. Tommy Thomaso’s chippy was down the Pleasance on the corner of Ingliston Street, but he was dearer, and we didn’t go there very much. 

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Sundays for a Catholic child were days for church and family visiting and never a playing out day. Your Sunday best clothes and shoes were worn, and only worn on Sundays or very special days. My Sundays were spent going to Mass in the morning and visiting Granny and Pop Kelly in the afternoon. I used to stay there for lunch and then I got to stand on the wooden stool to wash the dishes in the deep brown sink, something I was never ever allowed to do in my house. Granny used to play 78rpm records of Ronnie Ronald, etc. When they got their T.V. in 1953 for the Coronation of the Queen, their living room was mobbed with about 20 relatives to sit in front of their Bush Consul TV. After that I could watch Muffin the Mule on a Sunday. If I did not go to Granny Kelly’s I went to the cemetery at Mount Vernon with my ain Granny. 

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When I was about ten or so I was dared by the rest of the gang to phone the fire brigade and report a fire in Irvine’s Bakery. Because I wanted to be in with them, I did it and we all ran away to hide. When the Fire brigade arrived, I ran up to my house. The police were called and someone (John Foster) grassed me up. The police came to the door and I had to confess. I was taken to the police station along with my Granny and given a serious lecture by a policeman. I had to make my guide promise to them to never do that again. I was then marched down to see a priest to confess my sin and had to go to a special confession.

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One year I got a pair of baby doll pyjamas for my birthday. They were scooped neck short sleeved, white with little red stars all over them. The bottoms were short, just to my knees and had an elasticated frill. I was wearing them one night and came into the living room when the TV was on and someone was reading the news. Granny flew at me and dragged me out of the room calling me a shameless hussy to let the man on the telly see me in my pyjamas. She honestly believed that the people on the telly could see into your house!