S - Saddlers Cottage
The house of grey Portland stone and roof of Collyweston slate still retains its old character. I remember it in the 1940s and 1950s when the front had a grey wooden fence, a garden gate and a double gate across the drive at the left. It was fun to swing over them from one side to the other.
On either side of a concrete path to the front door were lawns each with diamond-shaped flower beds in their centre. At nine or ten, I had to cut the edges and woe betide me if I snipped off any flowers. They were in more danger from flailing sticks used to swat bumble bees attracted by the asters.
A rambling rose covered the head-high, wire fence between the lawn and drive. A small gate from the drive near the house opened onto a stone path crossing the front to the lawns and flower beds. Right of the house was a short path from the pavement into the garden of the landlord; he kept a beady eye on us especially as our Airedale, Punch, had killed his cat when it trespassed on ‘his’ lawn.
The drive up the left continued to the back boundary fence and contained a gate through which you could enter a stonemason’s yard – but only if he wasn’t there; he wasn’t keen on kids pinching his apples and plums from trees which were covered in the dust from the monuments and gravestones he made.
Those houses you can see in the background on the left are where that stonemason's yard used to be, The tree on the left is the apple tree I used to climb.
As you can see the wooden fences have gone, replaced by those stone walls. There are no gates. It had no name.
Now a nameplate (not visible in the photo) proclaims it to be 'Saddlers Cottage'. My father's family were saddlers before the motorcar came along.
Saddlers Cottage, High Street, Ketton |
This is the house in the Rutland village of Ketton in which I was born, eighty years ago next month.
The house of grey Portland stone and roof of Collyweston slate still retains its old character. I remember it in the 1940s and 1950s when the front had a grey wooden fence, a garden gate and a double gate across the drive at the left. It was fun to swing over them from one side to the other.
On either side of a concrete path to the front door were lawns each with diamond-shaped flower beds in their centre. At nine or ten, I had to cut the edges and woe betide me if I snipped off any flowers. They were in more danger from flailing sticks used to swat bumble bees attracted by the asters.
A rambling rose covered the head-high, wire fence between the lawn and drive. A small gate from the drive near the house opened onto a stone path crossing the front to the lawns and flower beds. Right of the house was a short path from the pavement into the garden of the landlord; he kept a beady eye on us especially as our Airedale, Punch, had killed his cat when it trespassed on ‘his’ lawn.
The drive up the left continued to the back boundary fence and contained a gate through which you could enter a stonemason’s yard – but only if he wasn’t there; he wasn’t keen on kids pinching his apples and plums from trees which were covered in the dust from the monuments and gravestones he made.
Those houses you can see in the background on the left are where that stonemason's yard used to be, The tree on the left is the apple tree I used to climb.
As you can see the wooden fences have gone, replaced by those stone walls. There are no gates. It had no name.
Now a nameplate (not visible in the photo) proclaims it to be 'Saddlers Cottage'. My father's family were saddlers before the motorcar came along.
11 comments:
You have a fantastic memory, Bob. Great house and details today.
Things change. I used to live in a block of flats in St Kilda(Melbourne beachside suburb, not the island!) There was a low privet hedge between our block and the next, across which I could hear the screeching of a violin student's instrument. Last time I passed the place the privet hedge was high enough for nobody to see anyone else across the hedge. Maybe I wouldn't have had to listen to Victoria playing that awful instrument so badly!
Nice to know that your childhood home acknowledges your family!
Now here is a house I could live in comfortably.
Finding Eliza
I remember you writing about this cottage before Bob. Interesting memories. Pity about all the lawns having disappeared.
Hi Bob - wonderful memories of your old home - and a time of celebration next month me thinks ... it's a delightful cottage - and then the apple tree, and the pinching of fruit from others' gardens ... lovely thanks for giving us a tour round ... cheers Hilary
Hi Bob,
Thanks for popping round and visiting my blog and I thoroughly enjoy seeing your childhood home. It's like something out of a picture book and would fit into some of the scenes I've photographed through Tasmania.
I thought you might enjoy checking out a blogger I enjoy Geoff Le Pard. Here's the link: https://geofflepard.com/
Best wishes,
Rowena
What a charming house. Your memories are a delight too.
This is a great house, full of character. It's great that you have such a good memory and that the memories are good ones.
You know... I prefer this cottage to same of the magnificent houses you have shown for other letters. thanks for sharing these memories.
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Eva - Mail Adventures
Am sure, this house might have beautiful childhood memories.
Its lovely.
thanks for sharing
A Peice Of My Life
that is something quaint about this house and it sounds as if you have some bittersweet memories.
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