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.

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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!

Scraps And The Great Divide

Over the fourteen or so years that I spent at The Stair I had a relationship at various times with all the children apart from perhaps the Duffy girls, Ann, Laura and Mary; where we would simply acknowledge one another.

I don't think I ever thought of a separation between the boys and the girls. Depending upon the season and the passing of the years things just seemed to naturally fall into place. Some activities were gender neutral whilst with others a natural separation took place.

I can recall having great fun going off on adventures to Morningside Park with Fiona Blades or to Portobello Pool with the ballet girls-Audrey Smith, the McKenna sisters and others; at other times Boo-Boo Hanlon; Iain Hoffmann; Les Ramage and I would head off to Edinburgh Castle; or I would go to church barbecues with Liz and Fiona Blades to Gullane Beach. The great chasey games that were held in the winter involved boys and girls including Carol Ramage, Jaqueline Burnett, Jonathon Taylor, Michael Hanlon and many others. In the summer time we would play British Bulldog in the front garden of 6/2 The Stair with Ruth and Alison Blades, Ali Douglas, Colin Hanlon and many others too. In the summer jumping the burn was a mixed activity, but one which mainly featured the boys, more of which in a future blog.

Where there was a great separation or divide in the 1960s was football which was dominated by the boys-it was very rare to see a girl playing, although I can recall Ruth Blades being atypically enthusiastic and indeed still have the bruises on my shins from such encounters!

On the girls' side there were two distinctive activities which come to mind that were female exclusive domains. In the summer they always had the really annoying habit of creating brilliant tents from blankets pegged up against the fence which separated the field from the washing green. The Hogg girls, Christina, Maureen and Eilleen and also all the Blades girls did this over the years.

These were girls only zones-boys were excluded. The tents always looked so cool-actually it was probably far too warm in there-and they always seemed to be getting up to interesting things inside that would irk our curiosity. Some boys were stupid enough to pull the tents down-not something I would contemplate doing having been on the losing side of several toy wrestling matches against Fiona Blades who I had total respect for-I wouldn't have wanted to get into a scrap with her!

Talking of scraps-the other activity, and one which I think mainly fell into the autumn and winter seasons of the year were scraps. Many of the girls including Eilleen Hogg and my sister Anne Hoffmann Junior collected scraps. I could never see the appeal of this hobby and I think it was boy free. Was it a gender thing or was it something that was indoctrinated into us so that we were all stereotypes?

Looking back I can see a greater rationale for the activity-it's probably similar to why many people go to the pub for a drink rather than sitting at home with one-it was a social activity-a vehicle where the girls got together in each others' homes to admire, comment and swap scraps together. The late 1960s must have marked the passing of collecting scraps as an activity for girls.

Not Swimming, But Learning!

One possible divide in The Stair was the children who regularly went to Warrender Swimming Baths and those who didn't. There may have been a cost dimension for some of the children, but generally many of the children managed to get the bus fares and entrance money, if not money for secondary spend.

I cannot ever recall seeing Heather or Gavin Swanson ever going to the baths. Even if they had the inclination to go they never seemed to have the freedom that all the other children enjoyed once they got to a certain age-the interesting dynamic of control was clearly a factor there which as a parent I can now understand. Looking back, for many of us, being able to go swimming without parental supervision was a right of passage. It was another example of the inordinate freedom to roam, that certainly The Hoffmanns were able to enjoy. Because our father would have done the same at the Glenogle Baths at Stockbridge as a boy in the late 1920s/early 1930s, it probably wasn't considered a health & safety issue in our house.

I don't remember seeing The Hogg girls Christina, Maureen or Eileen going along; similarly The Blades and The Duffys. Generally speaking there seemed to be a gender split, because the children who attended regularly were boys-The Hanlons-Michael; Boo-Boo; Colin; and Alan; and Iain and Peter Hoffmann, as well as Ali Douglas (8/3); Les and Derek Ramage (4/3) and many others.

Iain and Boo-Boo were great pals and for several years they used to go along together weekly It was the one activity that Ken Hoffmann used to very occasionally come along with us. He was an excellent swimmer, with an effortless, smooth and powerful front crawl; but it was his diving which attracted great attention. Because the deep end was only six feet deep, unfortunately, all that Warrender Baths had back in the 1960s was a small spring-board-but even from this he performed lovely swallow dives. I enjoyed watching him perform these. What I didn't enjoy was when he might swim under water and suddenly take my legs from me and pull me under the water. I couldn't swim at that stage so it was always a scary experience.

The bold Ken Hoffmann diving off the bridge of a ship

One distinctive memory for me about how life might have been, was when he had the loan of a black Riley car. It must have been during the autumn school holidays-the tattie holidays. It was a wet, overcast Friday. Over lunch he announced that the three of us-Anne, Iain and I would go swimming at Warrender Baths. It was a great feeling to be driven in luxury, rather than queueing for buses and then walking to and from Bruntsfield Place to Thirlestane Road in the rain. We were driven straight to the door! Even the route he took seemed to be magical-through the Braids, Cluny, Blackford and then Marchmont. And the luxury of a chilly bite and then chauffeur driven home!

We usually always treated ourselves to a chilly bite after our swim-it was a hot chocolate drink from a machine which cost sixpence. We really did shiver after our swims so it was welcoming initially, but I usually found it a bit sickly toward the bottom of the plastic carton. There was a rather classy shop with a a lime green painted façade (probably Farrow and Ball paint!) called Elizabeth's at the top of Thirlestane Road from which I'm ashamed to say we used to nick sweets from-perhaps because she was used to a better class of clientèle it was as easy as stealing sweets from a baby.

Edinburgh Corporation were very go ahead with their swim lessons programme which were usually held during the school holidays. For this one would usually be issued with a swim pass on the last day of term dated for say the two weeks of the Easter Holidays which gave one free access to the baths. It was on one of these occasions at Bruntsfield Primary School (Sean Connery's old school) where they had a pool in the basement, that I first learned to swim-what a feeling! The instructor obviously realised I'd mastered the stroke, but didn't have the confidence. He gave me water wings to put on for confidence-what I hadn't realised was there was no air in the wings-bright or what?

After that one was able to make progress through their swim development programme-a lovely certificate for swimming a length-thereafter it got progressively more difficult, but because the certificates were so classy, one wanted to get better to obtain them-back to my collector tendencies! Anyway, I managed to get certificates 1, 2 and 3, but never sat no 4 which included life-saving at a higher standard than level 3. Part of some of the tests included diving for the heavy rubber brick.

Aye, if we weren't swimming we were learning and if we weren't learning we were swimming!

SuperBall-Sir Winston Churchill Comes To The Rescue of The Hoffster

One embarrassing episode for The Hoffmann children was when our father in an atypical grumpy mood confiscated The Hoggs girls' SuperBall. Goodness knows what had happened-perhaps it had hit our window our some such thing? Anyway, the bold Ken Hoffmann confiscated it and put it in the middle drawer of the sideboard. I could just imagine he was daring their parents to come down to the door.

Anyway, it was such a fun toy, that the following day when he was out to work I couldn't resist sneaking it out of 6/2 and going off to play with it. Great fun and typical of me, however disaster was to strike!

For those young followers of The Stair the SuperBall did all it said on the pack-and more! Like Superman it could literally clear four storey buildings like The Stair with one bound, or should that be with a single bounce! Being un-scientific I've taken the following description from Wiki:

'A Super Ball (aka SuperBall) is a toy based on a type of synthetic rubber invented in 1964 by chemist Norman Stingley. It is an extremely elastic ball made of Zectron which contains the synthetic polymer polybutadiene as well as hydrated silica, zinc oxide, stearic acid, and other ingredients. This compound is vulcanized with sulphur at a temperature of 165 degrees Celsius and formed at a pressure of 3,500psi. The resulting Super Ball has an amazingly high coefficient of restitution. Dropped from shoulder level, Super Balls snap nearly all the way back; thrown down by an average adult, it can leap over a three-story building.'

Anyway, I'm sure you can guess what happened! In my attempts to make the SuperBall clear The Stair I ended up losing the damn thing-PANIC-what would happen when The Ogre came home from work and eventually looked in the drawer? I racked my brains-I could always throw myself off the top landing on to the shed roof? Ken, surely it must have been Anne or Iain!-Spontaneous combustion, father?-Are you absolutely sure Pater that that's where you left it?-Aye! 

I realised the only way to resolve the dilemma was to buy another ball, but my mother's purse wasn't handy and I had no money. It was only shortly before that I had got rid of my Victorian pennies. I scratched my head and then the light bulb clicked-as part of my coin collecting I'd bought a couple of Churchill Crowns-I knew enough about coins that although they were produced for collectors, they were in fact legal tender-two crowns were actually ten bob, although they had cost me more than that!

Like Billy Whizz I belted down to Andreetti's at Colinton Mains. The shop assistant took a bit of persuading-I think the SuperBall cost six shillings, but I eventually persuaded her-then it was straight back home, ripping the wrapper off the Superball as I sprinted up Oxgangs Road North and back to The Stair to replace The Hoggs' ball before my father arrived home. 

Alls well that end well-I'd kept The Ogre at bay-good old Winnie!

Working At Bairds' Newsagents-The Darkness and The Light-The Darkness

Mr Andrew Baird, the son of the founder of Baird's Newsagent
(Photograph courtesy of Louise Baird)

From behind the keyboards it's too easy to romanticise the past. And it's ridiculously too easy to romanticise getting up early to do a morning paper run and reflect upon its character-building qualities. 

Getting up early in the dark was rarely easy; even if you had gone to bed early the evening before. However, once you had got over the initial shock of the Big Ben repeater alarm going off and got a bit of tea and toast into your system, the travelling down to Baird's Newsagents, Morningside Drive for our paper rounds on the 6.00 am Number 16 bus wasn't too bad in the winter months - the bus was cosy - the company of Liz, Fiona and Gail Blades and Christina and Maureen Hogg was good and the craic between the conductor and the cleaners was funny. 

Once inside  the shop you were out of the cold, the wet and the dark. For half an hour it was quite Dickensian - like a small factory through the back of the shop where we folded the newspapers on the worktop in preparation for Pamela Baird arriving later to make up the paper runs.

Being Morningside most of the newspapers were broadsheets. Liz and Fiona were like robots - the speed at which they folded the papers was uncanny - they were like lightning. I could never keep up with them. When they weren't about I enjoyed appearing fast to the novices. When we had finished, our hands were dark and dirty from the ink.

Pamela Baird

I liked Pamela and warmed to her; I also admired the way she assumed responsibility for the business after her father died. She wasn't an early morning person so it was a struggle for her too; and running the business must have placed a heavy burden upon her at that time - in the afternoon she could be fun. I wonder what became of her in the decades after the shop was sold?

She came from a different class to us; Fiona and I would give one another knowing smiles and glances when Pamela answered the telephone and put on a posh accent for the benefit of her customers - there would be exaggerated pauses as she said 'Mmmh, yaass....mmmh yaass...mmmh yass'. 

I liked working for Baird's, however, the thing which brassed me off slightly was that although we arrived at the shop half an hour earlier than the children from Morningside Pamela would make up their runs first - I always felt this was class discrimination; I assumed they were the children of friends and neighbours and who attended more local schools such as George Watsons School. However, Fiona was smart as a whip and actually memorised her run so she didn't have to hang around.

I did the Morningside Drive run which was one of the biggest runs at the shop - I had to collect a second bundle of papers from Pamela's brother, Stuart, who dropped it off on the garden wall at St Clair Terrace from his little Triumph Herald car; what was even more irritating was that he was always late!

The Baird family with Stuart and Angela at the front

Although this was effectively a double paper round, Baird's paid well at a pound a week it was double the going rate and our bus fares were paid for too. We also felt a certain ownership too - despite the size, length and time taken I regarded the Morningside Drive run as mine, (until I took over the City Hospital from Douglas Blades) and took a certain pride in ensuring the post got through no matter the obstacles. Was it Tuesdays or Fridays that were the worst because the Daily Telegraph had a magazine insert in it which considerably added to already heavy bags.

Saturday bags were also heavier, with a weekend magazine, but somehow, Saturdays were never a struggle.

Once you had set out from the warmth and company of the shop we cut lonely, solitary figures - the winter mornings were dark and often quite bitter - Morningside Drive was quiet; the graveyard was on the opposite side of the road for a stretch - lovely mansion and town houses by day were surprisingly spooky and shadowy in the dark, especially when the wind blew through the swaying, leafless branches of the big old trees that lined Morningside Drive.

Looking back it was certainly character building - athletics training in such conditions in later years I took in my stride, probably because I had been steeled and inured in those earlier years working for Baird's. And whilst I do see a certain value in the overall experience, it was not conducive to performing well at school and reaching one's potential - when d'Artangnan asked me a few years ago if he could do an early morning paper run I admired his chutzpah and work ethic, but I said no, because I wanted him to get as much sleep as possible to grow and to be fresh for school; and today I guess we're more aware of the health & safety dimension too.

More in later blogs on life at Baird's and observations and reflections - under The Light where I also want to mention a poem Happiness by Raymond Carver.

Postscript

Much to my delight, on Saturday, 17^th March, 2018, I met up with Pamela Baird for coffee at Burr & Co, George Street, Edinburgh for the first time in at least 46 years. She looked very well - vibrant and chatty - it was absolutely lovely to see her once again and to catch up on what happened to Baird's Newsagents in the years after I stopped working there.

Pamela left the year after I finished working there (1971) to get married in 1972 and she moved away to West Lothian where she has lived since. The shops (there were three adjoined - a toy shop and a card shop too) were sold on to an American, who only ran the businesses for a year or so afterwards.

In many ways Pamela was glad to move on as managing the newsagents placed a heavy burden on her young shoulders - she was only nineteen years old when her Dad died in 1966 and she had to leave working at the bank to take up the reins and the hours were long. Prior to this, she used to give her dad a break from the shop for an hour to allow him to nip home to watch the wrestling on a Saturday afternoon, so she gained some experience then of running the shop.

It was very gratifying for me to be able to convey my thanks to her for being able to work there - I loved working for Baird's - they were good employers - it was an important part in my young life for three years - it left a deep impression upon me and taught me much about the values of discipline, hard work and resilience and depending upon yourself as well as being part of a team and of course the importance of earning your corn.

ps Pamela mentioned to me that one of her younger sisters, Angela, who lives in Australia, said she recalled me taking her out to see the film, Grand Prix, at the Dominion Cinema and being young, nervous and naive that instead of taking her for a coffee afterwards, spotted a number 16 bus saying ‘Oh, here’s my bus home’ and leapt on - I don’t recall our date, but it sounds just like me!

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.

6/4 The Hoggs

The Hoggs lived at 6/4-above us (The Hoffmanns) and below The Blades. They were a lovely family. The father, George, was a joiner - he was a very quiet man. His wife was the home-maker and seemed to be the more dominant figure.There were three daughters - Christina, Maureen and Eileen. Christine and Maureen were quite close in age, a few years older than me, whilst Eileen was a lot younger-there must have been at least a seven year gap. They took after George in that they had red hair, but none of the traits often associated with red hair!

One couldn't but help like the girls. Christina and Maureen shared a bedroom which was above ours-sometimes we had fun tapping out signals on the ceiling above. Christina was a very likeable, pleasant and sensible person-she seemed quite tall in appearance at that time; Maureen was closer in age to me. I always thought of her as being quite handsome, quite fashionable and good fun-she reminded me a lot of Fiona and Liz Blades at 6/6. I remember the cool way she used to wear her Firhill School tie low down on her blouse, in a large knot.

Maureen Hogg

Eileen was very thin and white-initially she may have appeared plain, but was actually quite beautiful-as she got older with her red hair set against white skin and being very slim, she looked like an artist.

Eilleen Hogg

Sindy

Probably because of the age gap, they were quite motherly toward Eileen and looked after her.The girls were fond of my sister Anne and had a lot of fun dressing up both Eileen and Anne in exotic outfits-it was as if instead of Barbie or Sindy dolls, even better, they had live dolls of their own  to dress and play with. My sister has very fond memories of these times.

Barbie

Along with the Blades we used to all work together at Bairds Newsagents at Morningside Drive. Whilst Douglas Blades used to cycle down earlier to open the shop, we all got the six o'clock  number 16 bus. Liz, Fiona and in later years, Gail Blades, the girls would come rushing down the stairs from level 2, to be joined by Christina and Maureen Hogg from level 1, to thereafter be met by me on the ground floor to cross Oxgangs Avenue to get the bus. It was good fun and made the early rises much easier. I enjoyed being the only boy in the company of four or five girls and felt part of a pretty cool gang!.There was good crack on the bus with the early morning school cleaners who were setting out to work too; they were a sparky, humorous bunch.

                                 

The Hoggs had cousins-two boys who were at Oxgangs Primary School who were renowned footballers and good runners. I recall them being at the Hoggs one Monday public holiday and hearing The Beatles track Yellow Submarine being played in the background. It's a very haunting track which immediately takes me back in time.

As mentioned, I think George Hogg was part of a cooperative of tradesmen who all built their own houses at Oxgangs Green; when they moved, it was a sad loss for The Stair, but they will have loved moving to their own house with upstairs and downstairs.

Bed in Summer

We had to go to bed far too early on summer evenings when we were young. We children had the back bedroom which faced toward the Pentland Hills and the scree slopes of Caerketton and Allermuir. It was south  to south west facing and therefore enjoyed the sun from lunch time until early evening. The curtains would hardly contain the light and I would lie in bed on the top bunk watching the shadows of the numbers 4, 27 or 16 Edinburgh Corporation buses move and circulate around three of the four walls of our bedroom. Occasionally there would be the sound of footsteps going past of an adult returning home from work to Oxgangs Street or going out for an evening outing. Worst of all were the sounds of other children laughing and shouting, still out enjoying themselves playing. I suppose it must have been the same for the Hoggs, the Blades and the Duffy children too? It may have been a small comfort if we'd realised we weren't alone-a century before Stevenson clearly experienced the same thing too.

Hi Peter

Fiona here. It took me a while to get round to responding to your text to visit the blog. It’s good. You've done a lot of work, lots of good pictures, lots of information to stimulate thought.

I knew you had a connection to Buchan pottery somewhere but I didn’t know exactly what it was, so thanks for clarifying that. Whenever I think of your grandfather, and I can picture him quite clearly, I think of Buchan pottery. I visited his house on several occasions with you and I must have seen examples of it there because I always make that connection. 

In your Bed in Summer item, you spoke about buses and I suddenly remembered the incident with the number 16, when one morning one fell on to its side and slewed into the fence of St Hilda’s Church across the road. I guess it must have been around 1967/8. I suppose it may be mentioned somewhere in the Scotsman Archive. Apparently what had happened was that it had been turning right into Oxgangs Avenue from the main road, Oxgangs Road North (?) one morning, when a lorry going straight on had clipped its back quarter, knocking it off balance. It made a loud BANG as it hit the ground and we were all the window in our house like a shot to see what had happened. We never expected that! Fortunately the bus had been fairly empty and no one was seriously hurt, just a little stunned. Great excitement though. I don’t know how they got it back up again because we had to go to school and it was gone when we got home.

Just one comment about the blog, the script is laborious to read.
I’m going to tell some others about your blog, so hopefully you will get some more comments fairly soon. Fiona Blades

Thanks Fiona-good to hear from you. Yes, I remember about the bus toppling over-interesting and illuminating that it was a lorry that had caused the accident-I'd probably have wrongly surmised that it must have happened in winter-a mixture of a right hander and ice-a useful wee reminder of just how easy it will be to get things wrong in future! When I worked on the Edinburgh & Dumfries-shire three wheel milk floats there was always the excitement in winter of going down the very steep Craighouse Road before the 90 degree turn into Craighouse Gardens (Balcarres St)-all the milk boys had to go onto the driver's side to prevent the float going over. Good point on the font-Will's spoken to me before about that. Fiona Blades

Fiona again.

Hi Peter

The Duffy you can't remember is 'Ann'

I like the reminder about the milk floats. Even as I read I can hear the whining sound of the motor. just as when I saw the picture of the rubbish chute I could instantly smell the odour it effused; a mixture of ash and damp vegetable peelings. Fiona Blades

Well spotted-the second I read Ann, her face came back to me immediately. I'll devote a future blog to the milk floats and also some of the adventures a few of us got up to when I delivered milk for a couple of dairies from a small metal two wheeled cart. One of the dairies was Berry's at Falcon Road West-can't remember the one I worked for up at Bruntsfield Place. The chute works on a very simple premise, yet when it became blocked, I was always very impressed when one of the practical men in the stair cleared it-I had assumed it must have taken a great feat of engineering! Peter Hoffmann