The Pulley

It's strange how things that one hasn't thought of for decades take a little nudge from somewhere and something long forgotten bubbles up to the surface.

I was reading a copy of the 2 May 2014 edition of 'The Lady' (don't ask!) where I came across a query from a reader looking for a clothes rack that could be suspended from the ceiling. 'It's called a pulley' I shouted at the magazine-we had one at The Stair, as indeed did each of the eight families. And what a boon it must have been to all the mums-not stereotyping here-just the way it was back in the 1960s (see earlier Aye Working blog); in particular where the families were quite large including the Duffys; the Hanlons; and the Blades.

It was a rather clever idea. If one couldn't hang the washing out the back at the washing green because it was raining or snowing, then instead it could be hung up on the pulley indoors with a view to trying to dry the wet clothes inside. 

Whilst the theory was splendid, in practice it had some drawbacks. Between 1958 and 1972 there was no central heating in each flat-only the small coal fire in the living room. Large items such as sheets would have to be hung up around the fire, but a member of the family always had to stand guard, in case the sheet became singed.

The other items of clothing would be hung on the pulley which was located on the kitchen ceiling. It was sited in the kitchen because any drips would fall onto the linoleum floor. It was a very clever device because the flats were quite small and space was limited. 

The pulley was fixed to the ceiling and a rope lowered the frame down or pulled it back up. Whilst the clothes were loaded on, the rope would be tied to a wall hook. Thereafter, the rope was untied and the pulley hoisted back up to the ceiling.

Being able to haul the clothes up above meant it took up no floor space. However, the two drawbacks were that it must have taken days to dry. And perhaps more significantly any cooking smells would impregnate the clothes-a major drawback. 

Looking back I guess the bathroom may have been a slightly better option. However, being creatures of habit and devoid of lateral thinking, we at 6/2 Oxgangs Avenue never considered relocating it.

On The Cusp Of the Year

Today is Thursday, 15th August, 2013. It's the last day of the year since, on a whim, I first started the blog, The Stair, on Thursday 16 August, 2012. On the cusp of the year, both for the blog and when late summer is just turning to early autumn I thought I would display this lovely photograph of the season. 

The photograph has been taken up at Swanston Road with the T Woods in the background on the lower slopes of the Pentland Hills. A local farm worker is atop a cart and horse carrying hay; they are making gentle progress up the slope on a golden afternoon at the cusp as summer turns to autumn.

It was on such afternoons throughout the 1960s and on to 1972 that I along with the other twenty four children from The Stair contemplated our return to the classroom. Quite often the weather remained similarly fine and sunny which made it a struggle to return to stifling classrooms at Hunters Tryst, Firhill and Boroughmuir Schools. Those of us with an awareness of the English system would be envious that our peers across the border wouldn't return until September.

For most of the kids we didn't really want to go back-even if by the back end of the holidays being off school had perhaps lost a little of its sparkle. I've no doubt though that a few others like Gavin Swanson who were more studious actually looked forward to the start of the autumn term and the new school academic year. I don't think I ever did, but there was always a certain 'buzz' about going back. 

The boys had visited Ben Mackenzie for a haircut-Michael; Boo-Boo; Brian and Alan Hanlon will have had their number ones, whilst Iain Hoffmann and I had our hair plastered down with jungle juice. 

For those with new schoolbags (and that unforgettable smell of leather) or new school clothes and ties or perhaps those going up to secondary for the first time many will recall these days with a mixture of excitement and pleasure, but pain might be too extreme a word choice!

Many of us were keen to squeeze the last drops from the summer fruits and as the countdown began we managed to play amongst the hay in the fields at Swanston; have grass fights with the mown grass in the front garden of 6/2 Oxgangs Avenue; or late evening games of kick-the can or British Bulldog at The Field. Bike runs were still taking place-I note that in August 1972 Paul Forbes; Boo-Boo Hanlon; Iain Hoffmann and I cycled through Arthur's Seat to Portobello whilst young Colin Hanlon cycled so far. On another occasion Boo-Boo, Iain and I watched a world record at the Edinburgh Highland Games-little did I realise that a few years later I would take part myself. 

There was still a certain continuity in our lives as milk runs and paper runs were still being undertaken, because not many of us at The Stair went away on holiday other than Liz Blades to Stonehaven; Anne Hoffmann to our New Town cousins; or Alison and Fiona Blades; Iain; Paul and I camping at Stobo, Peebles. 

For a few summers we enjoyed our Mini-Olympics at the army's former running track at Redford Barracks which were great fun. We might even manage a final visit to go jumping the burn at Colinton Mains through to the Braid-Burn Valley, but by then the grass and wild flowers and weeds and nettles had perhaps become too overgrown. 

And if it was wet, Iain, Paul and I would enjoy card games at The Blades with Fiona and the girls or play mischievously with their giant tape-recorder with Paul blowing great rasps onto the tape.

The cusp of the year was further illustrated and articulated through the school calendar.What was truly lovely about the summer was that it brought many of us at The Stair together whilst school would unfortunately divide us. At the start of the autumn term The Duffys returned to St Augustine's whilst The Hanlons; The Hoggs; Norman Stewart; The Swansons; and The Hoffmanns were divided up between Boroughmuir; Firhill; The Royal High; and of course Hunters Tryst. The cusp was thus metaphorical and literal.

And on this last day of the year of the blog whilst it should perhaps be a time for reflection I'm not inclined to go down that road, and for whatever reason I'm not inclined to quite bring down the curtain on it-and certainly not before I do a Where Are They Now blog-and even that of course is unlikely to be a final hurrah.

So, on the cusp of the year after a golden 2013 summer good luck in your adventures-and I look forward to meeting and hearing from old acquaintances and making new. And by way of update, one former member at The Stair, Fiona Blades has been accepted to undertake a PhD whilst I'm joining Iain Hoffmann on holiday to Portugal. Any updates from others would be welcome!

The Sunday Post #5 One Mid-Summer Morn

Pentland Hills and T Plantation circa 1914 (Photographer Unknown

Edinburgh Libraries, Museums and Galleries Collection)

This wonderful old photograph from a century ago shows three schoolgirls walking down Swanston Road through the farmland and fields. 

There is no sign of Swanston Farm or Swanston Golf Club. 

The Old Schoolhouse in Swanston Village was in existence, so perhaps the girls are heading off to school in the morning. 

The Pentland Hills and the T Woods can be seen clearly in the distance. 

The scree slopes of the hills were no different fifty years later come the 1960s when the Blades; the Hoggs; and the Hoffmanns stood at their living room windows looking out for the number 16 bus coming down Oxgangs Road North.

There are hay stacks in one of the distant fields and one of the girls is only wearing a blouse, so we might surmise it is late summer. 

They are all dressed smartly in their straw hats; skirts; and dresses and each of them is carrying a metal case perhaps containing their school-books and lunches. 

On a fine summer morn or in early autumn the walk would be refreshing and enjoyable. However, on a bitter winter's morning, in the semi-darkness or in the cold of a March morning with a biting wind it would have been a very different story. But, at least they walked together which would have eased their passage and no doubt they will have enjoyed each other's company. Still, it's a long exposed country lane and one which we at The Stair often travelled along on our adventures to the Pentland Hills half a century later and half a century ago.

I wonder where the girls are coming from as back then, there wouldn't have been many houses in Fairmilehead. 

Perhaps they were sisters and lived at the old Hunters Tryst Farm. 

It's certainly a very lovely photograph capturing a moment in time. 

I also wonder who the photographer was. Was it set up or just serendipity? Perhaps their mum and dad wanted to capture that special moment in time to treasure and hold dear in their hearts, before the girls grew up, left home and moved on to follow life's journey. 

They are all smartly dressed and don't look poor. Their outfits - straw hats, skirts and dresses remind me very much of the two girls in The Railway Children. They all look quite lady-like - composed and serene, but not prim. If there had been a companion photograph taken at the end of the school day, it might have been quite different. We would of course see their faces and perhaps being the end of the school day and free from their lessons, we might have seen them un-lady-like taking to their heels, racing downhill from Swanston Village to head homewards for their tea and back to the welcome bosom of the family home.

Because we can't see the girls’ faces it adds to the elusiveness of the subject material. It forces the viewer to use their imagination.

You can't but help wonder what happened to each girl. The First World War was a matter of months away. Did they go on to become wives and mothers or follow a career in nursing or teaching? Did they remain in Edinburgh or move on to other towns or even make a life for themselves abroad?

In a way, the photograph reminds me of the cover of the novel Three German Farmers On The Way To A Dance by Richard Powers which was based on an old photograph. 

It seems to me that in the hands of a fine novelist such as Joan Lingard a rather good story might be weaved.

Postscript: In late 2017 I came across an update that revealed the premise on which I based the vignette was false - if you look closely the girls are actually carrying milk carriers!  Still, much of my musings on what happened to the girls remains true so I thought I would leave the vignette as it stands!

Christmas Eve

When Anne Hoffmann, Iain Hoffmann and I were young, whatever our circumstances - whether our father was in work or not - Santa Claus always did us proud.

Christmas was always the best and most exciting time of the year.

When I say that Santa (aka Mother, Mrs Anne Hoffmann) - sometimes with support from Father (Ken Hoffmann) did us proud I don't mean that we were spoiled or received any expensive presents - no, instead we always got a stocking which was filled full of imaginative small presents which were an absolute delight to wake up to.

Like most kids it was the one evening of the year when we were keen to go to bed early of our own accord.  And of course it was the one morning in the year that we were keen to get up early too!

I'm not too sure how it worked in all the other households in The Stair.

In terms of quality high spend presents Norman Stewart (6/3 Oxgangs Avenue) did better than any of the other children.

One feature which I didn't enjoy at school was that on our return in January the teacher always asked us all individually, in front of the class, what we had received.

I can recall telling a fib saying that I had been given a graphic designer's set - of course I didn't have a scooby what that was but I was determined not to be out-gunned by Norman - he of course was the one pupil in the class who knew perfectly well that I had not received any such thing!

In my memory Christmas Eve was a very quiet evening in The Stair. 

I can recall my father regularly going out to the Christmas Eve Watchnight church service, presumably at Colinton Mains Parish Church, the same church which the Swansons attended - I don't think he went to the remarkable Reverend Jack Orr's St John's Church service.

Colinton Mains Parish Church

St John's Churdh of Scotland, Oxgangs Road North

Rev Jack Orr

The Hanlons (6/7) always seemed to receive some quite nice presents and they might be seen out playing with them, but not until several days after Christmas Day.

Over the years Mother and our next door neighbour Mrs Molly Swanson (6/1) had an arrangement whereby Mum gave Gavin and Heather a wee tin of Woolworths' toffees and we all received something from Molly - as mentioned I once got a book from her, but when it was opened it instead contained seven tubes of sweets inside arranged horizontally inside.

The Hoggs up above (6/4) always received girly pressies and I can recall my sister Anne spending time with Christina, Maureen and Eileen. I'm much vaguer on the Blades (6/6), other than one year when Alison, Ruth and Esther got their Spacehoppers.

.
Presumably before Anne was born our grandfather gave Iain and me a bobble Santa each which were full of wrapped toffees - the figure is a delight and has been carefully looked after over the past fifty years - each year we bring the two Santas out. The Swansons got a similar Santa figure, but they had less jolly faces.

I may be wrong but I seem to recall that the Hanlons and the Blades were quite big on such decorations as the linked rings which went from corner to corner across the ceiling.

I used to regret that we were more conservative with individual Woolworths' decorations which were very attractive and aesthetically pleasing. There wasn't such a crowded effect which as a boy I would have liked. I suspect Woolworths did Mrs Anne Hoffmann and many other parents proud over the decades.

On Christmas Eve each of the three of would leave one of our mother's nylon stockings at the foot of our beds.

I was always the first of us to awake.

I would crawl down the bed and reach out to see if Santa had arrived yet and then the excitement of feeling the bulkiness of the mis-shapen stocking full of surprises was the most wonderful sensation in the world It's Christmas! I would bellow out It's Christmas! as I jumped down from the bunk bed to switch on the light and awaken the others.

The stockings were just great - they were filled with torches; little games; Yogi Bear or Huckleberry Hound picture books; perhaps a young person's novel; colouring books and pens; a selection box; some gold coins; an orange and an apple and a half crown; The Broons or Oor Wullie annual in later years.

Photograph courtesy Heather Lawrence

Anne would get some girly stuff - I particularly recall a delightful peach smelling cream; whilst Iain might get a toy car, perhaps a Corgi or some Matchbox cars; on one occasion when quite young I got a leather football and football boots. Iain was very into his cars whilst I was uninterested in cars, although ironically I have had more sports cars over the years than one could throw a stick at, much to my wife's dismay.

When we were very young, in our innocence we'd then rush through to awaken our parents to show them what Santa had brought us.

These Christmas mornings were simple little affairs, but wonderful - our mother ensured that these were magical occasions every year from being very small children and into our teens; happy times and very, very sweet memories, which I've never forgotten.

Much like Sundays, on Christmas Day we saw very little of what went on in The Stair because our grandfather would collect us at mid-morning and take us down to Portobello for the day, not returning till late at night - but for that you'll all have to be patient children and wait until Christmas Day to hear that story!

Wispa It - Cremola Foam; Cabana; and The Nutty Bar

A distinct memory of visits to our great grandparents at London Road Dalkeith was the tin of Creamola Foam which sat on the kitchen shelf. On warm summer Saturday afternoon visits it was a thrill for us to enjoy this little luxury. Creamola Foam was a small tin of powder which if you added a spoonful to a glass of water provided you with an instant fizzy drink.

I’d never come across it before and found it fascinating and of course it was a real treat; when we were very young a fizzy drink in the early 1960s was an unusual thing for me. Ane even if you weren't scientifically-minded I thought it rather amazing that a glass of water could be transformed, like water into wine!

I believe it was popular with the Travelling People too. It must have been quite magical to gather cool water from a stream in the middle of nowhere, put in a teaspoon of orange or raspberry crystals and have a ready made refreshment! We never had it at Oxgangs but I recall tins in the Blades' kitchen up above at 6/6. I think it was from here that we got the idea to buy bottles of Treetop diluting orange.

Like many products it disappeared to the great confectionery graveyard in the sky-the Cabana bar-a Cadbury's rival to the Rowntrees Bounty chocolate bar, but more solid and with the addition of a cherry to the mixture-the Nutty Bar, a fudge type roll covered in peanuts several of which which I consumed daily in 1978 before falling out of love with-chewing gum coins wrapped in foil-Cadbury's Aztec, we remember the advert more than the bar.

It's interesting how some products survive for decades and others disappear-few come back, but the Cadbury's Wispa did after a public campaign. Check out Chocolate Wars by Deborah Cadbury-a wonderful social history focusing on the great Quaker families who were such successful companies and enlightened employers.

106287 106748 Divi-Day

I initiated a party trick a few years ago. I wrote down the numbers 287 on a piece of paper and kept the numbers hidden from everyone. I then said to the group I'm going to say three numbers and predict what three numbers Iain Hoffmann will come up with in response. The younger members of the group were particularly astonished when I got my prediction right.

The six numbers referred to the numbers which we had to quote whenever we visited The Store-this was our St Cuthbert's Cooperative allocated store number. The number was engrained into us from an early age, although some nameless members of the family had to have it written down for a few years!

It meant that we we were part owners-well, a teeny part-owner of the company; thus any time a member of the family visited  The Store and made a purchase it was important to always give the number.

Twice a year a dividend was paid out to each member-it was a percentage of what had been spent in the previous six months, but also was based on the profit the company had made. The second number in the title was The Blades' number-they must have signed up almost five hundred customers later than ourselves.

For many families in the city it was an important time in the year. After the money was paid out at Bread Street, Mrs Hoffmann would take Anne, Iain and me straight in to town to buy new school shoes and such like. We would go to Clarks-the x ray machine for checking that the shoes fitted properly was fascinating...!

In the decades before the 1960s it probably was the difference between many children going shoe-less-Divi-Day was that important. I may be wrong, but I think some families in the local Stairs only bothered collecting their dividend once a year using it to pay for either Christmas or for a summer holiday-we never had that luxury of allowing it to build up, instead queuing up on the first day that it could be collected!

Another Act of Kindness At The Stair Recovered From The Mists of Time-Mr George Hogg

I've mentioned in some blogs that there was very little that I could remember about George Hogg, 6/4 The Stair. What I did recall was that he was either working or at home inside.

When I met up with Douglas Blades, the oldest of the children at The Stair, he mentioned how George had made him a sledge. Douglas said he had picked up a couple of old runners and had spoken to George, who was a skilled joiner-George had then worked his magic and conjured up a sledge.

I well remember the big wooden sledge-it couldn't quite accommodate all of Douglas' six sisters on board, but it certainly was a big sledge! I can recall many of the girls packed in tight like sardines tucked in behind Douglas, with the last member on board having to stand up; the combined weight helped the sledge fly down the snow covered field, giving Douglas the opportunity to bellow NEEEP! to warn any unwary bystanders-usually it might only be the washing green fence that stopped the sledge's progress!

I hope George watched  from his sitting room window at 6/4 and enjoyed the fun he had magicked up !

Aye Working

If two words could describe the women in The Stair the words would be Aye working.

Never mind Stephen Covey's management books of the past twenty years-the women in The Stair could have shown him a trick or two; they had to deploy wonderful management skills, ingenuity, stamina, resilience and character in raising their families; running their households; making ends meet with very little money; getting value for money at The Store (St Cuthbert's Co-op) and armed with few time saving aids.

There wouldn't have been a great deal of variation in their work throughout the course of the year, but the winter was probably the busiest of the four seasons and the summer, perhaps the easiest. Breakfast might have to be made for their husbands before they headed off to work-certainly Dougal Swanson was provided with a cooked breakfast of bacon and egg each morning. The younger children would have to be raised from bed and dressed for school.

In the dark months of December, January and February the day might begin with the fire ashes being cleared out although to keep costs down, the fire might not be lit until much later in the day. At 6/2 three children, Anne, Iain and I would need to be given breakfast-if it was toast and tea it was something which we were soon taking responsibility for. And from the age of seven or eight we were encouraged to do a fry up of sorts on a Sunday morning.If two words could describe most of the women in The Stair the words would be aye working.

Washings were time consuming without a washing machine-doing a washing by hand followed by putting clothes through the wringer was killer work, even before being hung up to dry on the washing green in the warmer months. In the winter, clothes needed to be dried inside-no mean feat in a small flat without central heating. Whilst back in the 1960s we had far fewer clothes and there was perhaps a lot less washing done, imagine what life was like for each household which averaged five in size, never mind the large Blades family-talk about Sysiphus!  It must have been like a Chinese Laundry-washing and drying on an industrial scale!

An overcast day, so no washing hung out today!

Some families used the washing green, others didn't. Mrs Hanlon, Mrs Swanson and Mrs Hoffmann regularly hung their washing out to dry-no doubt some interesting conversations took place there. I believe there was a rota for each Stair but because some families didn't use the washing green, there was an arrangement which allowed the regulars all week access to The Stair's allocated section. Helen Blades didn't use the washing green-when Fiona Blades, Anne Duncan (Hoffmann) and I met up recently we concluded the reason for this might have been that it would have been so time consuming having to go down three floors with great piles of washing and then back up-not to mention dashing in and out if the weather changed.

Thereafter, housework needed to be undertaken and lunch made for those at home during the week. Messages of course had to be bought-without fridges this often meant visits to the shops on a daily basis. And come the evening, tea or dinner needed to be prepared. Not to mention taking one's share to clean The Stair. It was only into the evening that women might be able to put their feet up and relax in front of the box.

As we got older Anne, Iain and I shared some of the burden, particularly after Mrs Anne Hoffmann went out to work in the Civil Service after my parents divorced. Between the three of us we tidied the house, made the fire, did the messages and washed, dried and put away the dishes-we took a certain pride in having the place looking ship-shape for our mother arriving back home at tea-time. Iain has always taken a particular pride in being house-pwoud-even today if you call in to see him he's likely to be wearing his pinny which of course is kept spotless! In some ways, these were happy days for us at 6/2 with a good and much more relaxed atmosphere at home as the three of us were getting older too.

Peter, Anne and Iain Hoffmann circa summer 1970

One observation or reflection on the 1960s was the amount of stereotyping-whilst men had to be seen to go out to do economic work, women did all of the repetitive household chores-most men would rather be seen dead than be seen hanging out the washing-as one might guess this was another example of Ken Hoffmann being different-he was happy to be seen on the washing green-he didn't need to prove his macho-ism! I seemed to recall Mr Bowman 4/6 also hung up the washing too-he was a very fit bloke who used to play football for an amateur team and would even be seen going out running-unheard of for the time-whereas today whether I arrive in Edinburgh early in the morning or very late at night the streets are dotted with joggers, the majority of whom are women-such a radical cultural change from the 1960s-perhaps the housework burden is at last being shared? Or not!

Few and Far Between and Ken Hoffmann Being Different No 4!

Family outings, few and far between?

The Duffys at 6/8 certainly did things together, because I would see them all go off to St Marks Church as a family on Sundays. I don't recall The Hanlons doing family outings. With nine members in the family it would have been near impossible for The Blades, but again, if there was a large number of them seen together, it was usually for purposes of church attendance. When there were fewer Blades family members I recall going as a very wee boy when Helen Blades pushed her father in a wheelchair up to the army's polo fields on family walks. With The Hoggs, it would be the four females-I don't recall George out with them very much. Similarly, with The Stewarts it would be more Mrs Stewart and Norman-perhaps that was to do with Mr Stewart's shifts as a policeman? The Swansons were the exception-the one family unit in The Stair who did everything together as a family-if it were out-with the working day, then one always saw them together as a group-whether it was visiting the granny, going to church or in to town. The Hoffmanns were broadly similar to the rest of The Stair, however for intermittent periods of time we all went to my grandparents' house each Sunday-because my father objected to this he often wouldn't come along (ironically and rather sadly this suited us!)-also when he was away at sea he simply wouldn't be there.

The Hoffmanns Family Photograph 1961
(Photograph by another of The Pedlars, Hawkers and Salesmen who visited The Stair) 

These patterns may well have been quite common for many of the families who lived in Oxgangs during the 1960s. The lack of money is arguably a factor. Cars are related to this and are an interesting factor; they very much served as a literal and metaphorical vehicle for bringing families together throughout the UK during the decade, but were few and far between in Oxgangs. Their absence can be seen clearly in some of the photographs which I have shown on the blog. During the 1960s, no family in The Stair had a car.

Sunday and Local Public Holiday Picnics to Fife circa 1968/69
(Photographs Heather Robertson)

Whereas, because my grandfather did have a car, we regularly went out for Sunday runs or picnics to Peebles, West Linton, Fife and East Lothian. Looking back these were lovely times and reflect really well on our grandparents' sense of family.

The one brief exception to car ownership at The Stair during the 1960s was that for a very short period of time-was it a few weeks, we had the use of a black Riley car-I don't think we owned it-it may have been my grandfather's car? I recall there was a problem with the exhaust and Ken Hoffmann had the crazy idea that it could be held on with chewing gum; so he bought packets and packets of gum for the kids to chew on and then tried to affix it to the exhaust! Ken Hoffmann was completely 'handless' when it came to do it yourself! I wait to hear from Mrs Anne Hoffmann (Duncan), but was this the same car which went up in flames?

When my grandparents went to Dublin on holiday Ken Hoffmann had the use of their car. Unfortunately it wasn't insured for fire. Even more unfortunately it went up in flames outside The Stair and was a complete write off!

Does anyone know if chewing gum is combustible?!

ps More on family outings in a future blog.

6/8 The Duffys Or Tell Laura I Love Her!

Of the eight families who were a core part of The Stair the Duffys were the last family to move in. I knew them less well than other families for three main reasons. 

First because they were the last family to move in and other relationships had formed and developed. Second, because they didn't mix with the other families to quite the same extent-they were well brought up and led quite orderly lives-I don't recall seeing them out and about much. And third, because of religion. 

The Duffys were the only Catholic family in The Stair and it meant that for substantial parts of the week, our paths didn't cross. Between Monday and Friday each of the four Duffy children-Ann; Laura; Mary; and John attended different schools to the rest of the children. And on a Sunday they were regular worshippers at St Mark's Catholic Church and we were away visiting our grandparents. So for six of the seven days, they led separate lives to most of us in The Stair. 

St Mark's Church, Oxgangs, Edinburgh

Because they took up residence in The Stair later than the rest of us, the older Duffy children, had already formed friendships elsewhere. I guess it was a similar situation to what I alluded to in the earlier blog on Norman Stewart-that when he and I began to attend different secondary schools-The Royal High School and Boroughmuir Senior Secondary School, the ties with our peers who attended Firrhill Seconday School loosened.

Mrs Annie Duffy was the head of the household-like Laura she had red hair. She seemed to be the dominant figure in the household, with Mr Duffy being relatively quiet. I liked Mrs Duffy. After I had moved away I occasionally used to bump into her in later years during the seventies when I was visiting Mrs Anne Hoffmann (Duncan). I enjoyed having a wee blether with her. I think she took a small interest in my athletics, which I was pursuing at that time.

I don't really have many memories of two of the daughters, Ann and Mary. However, I have more substantial memories of Laura and John, who was the youngest. 

Laura was a very attractive red head. Each week-day morning we used to queue at the same bus stop-the one outside the doctor and dentist surgeries. It was a very busy bus stop-it was the last stop at which one could get on the number 5, 16, 4 and 27 buses.

I used to go across to the bus stop each morning at around eight o'clock. It was busy with women and men going off to work as well as children going away to schools in the city. Laura was always there in the queue, just in front of me. I always rather fancied her, but she always remained supremely aloof from me, studiously avoiding any eye contact whatsoever. I was the opposite feasting my eyes on her great beauty.

I always felt she looked down on me rather disdainfully-well who could blame her! She was out of my class. On one occasion I actually plucked up the courage to ask her out, but fainted before she replied-only joking(!)-she of course turned me down, but it at least forced her to speak to me!

And there was me trying to look my very best each morning after battling with my unruly, curly hair having plastered it down earlier with liberal splashings of water combined with the wonderful flattening qualities of the hood of an old anorak  Oh, if Laura only knew of the great lengths I had gone too on her behalf, perhaps she might have considered my request more favourably. I think not. Unfair as it may be to say, whilst I thought her lovely, I also considered her snooty!

No Laura, but there were other small compensations!
(Boroughmuir School Dance David Lines; Rhona Clelland; Marion Scott; Peter Hoffmann)

The Hanlons lived opposite the Duffys and were the family in The Stair closest to them-particularly the parents who socialised with each other in later years. I think both Colin and Boo-Boo were quite good pals with John, because of their common interest in football and Boo-Boo also supported Celtic. I think the Blades were  friendly with the Duffys too.

Boo-Boo Hanlon modelling his new Celtic strip
(Photograph, Peter Hoffmann, 1971)

John Duffy, Colinton  Park, 1971 (Photograph, Peter Hoffmann)

The member of the family who I knew best was John, because of a shared interest in football. He was an enthusiast and a nice little player. He was a pleasant lad-modest, gentle and unassuming. He played football competitively, including for his school. On a few occasions we held large two a side football competitions in Oxgangs, with teams drawn out of a hat. We used to play for  a Subuteo Cup! On one occasion I won the 'World Two a Side Competition' with John.

Was it rain or was it sweat?-Probably it was both as there was very heavy rain that week.
John Duffy and Peter Hoffmann with the Subuteo Cup at dusk after a long and tough two a side tournament
 (Monday, 2 August, 1971)

Looking back, it's illuminating that my relationship with John was at its strongest during the school holidays, when there were more opportunities to spend time together.