"I never thought it was such a bad little tree . . . ."

               "I never thought it was such a bad little tree.  It's not bad at all, really.
               Maybe it just needs a little love."           --Linus from "A Charlie Brown Christmas"

Erik,

     I wrote this story in early November, 2009.  Enjoy.Mom

     "I'm not dreaming of a white Christmas this year.  We're going to have a white Thanksgiving.  However, I am dreaming of a Christmas tree--a pre-lit, faux tree.  In the catalog it says 

". . . just fluff the branches, add ornaments, plug in and voila!"  My kind of tree!"

      In 1959, I came to America with my family aboard the Queen Elizabeth.  Mam packed a small, artificial Christmas tree.  A central wooden dowel sat in a hole in a square base.  It was 3 feet tall with branches that pulled out and down to form the shape of a tree.  It came with light bulbs, each with a shade like an inverted Dixie cup.  A nursery rhyme and character were painted on each shade.

     In the early 60's, we bought a 5 ft. silvery tinsel tree.  It had a silver painted "trunk" with holes drilled in it at increasing angles, so that when each of the branches of the same size was inserted into the holes, they would perch upwards, forming a tree shape.  My brother, Darryl, was born during the era of the silvery tinsel tree.  Maybe that's why he loves tinsel so much. 

     In the 70's we had a 6-foot artificial evergreen tree.  It looked real, but didn't smell real.  We three kids could assemble it, no parent help needed.  Dad always put those big, cone shaped, multi-colored lights bubs all over the tree.  Maureen and I begged for fairy lights.  Darryl just wanted to lob tinsel at the tree, big clumps that would drip from random branches.

     I swore some day that I would have a real tree, a tree I cut myself at a tree farm.  And I did have that real tree, year after year after year.  But I was always the one who cut the tree, stuffed it into the too-small trunk or tied it on the roof of my car, forced the trunk into a too small tree stand, dragged in all into the house, attached lights and ornaments, and vacuumed endless pine needles. Each January I took it down, packed all the ornaments and lights away, dragged the tree back out into the yard, and cut it into 3 pieces for easy garbage pick-up.
     Every year the tree I bought was still real but a little bit shorter, with fewer lights and ornaments and eventually came from the local Target instead of the local tree farm.
     The year I'm ordering, from a catalog, a prelit faux tree with balsam fragrance.  The sections of the tree are hinged and pop into place--just fluff the branches, add ornaments, plug in and enjoy.  My kind of tree!

The 1960's silvery tinsel tree

Families are like fudge . . .

Joan (5) and older sister, Winifred (16)

"Families are like fudge--mostly sweet with a few nuts."
       --author unknown

     "I went to High Street Infants school, then to an elementary school.  Next I moved over to the other side of Arnold to Church Drive Senior School where I stayed until I was 14.
     Unless you were awarded scholarship to secondary schools in Nottingham, you had to leave school at 14.  One day I was in school, the next sitting at a sewing machine in a factory.  There was not much hope of a scholarship unless your parents were involved in the political system.  I always feel so much talent was passed over by stupid class rules and who you knew.
     Mam made all our clothes up until I was married; she was a wonderful seamstress.  She always dressed Molly (Kit's daughter, born in 1932) and me in the same outfits.
     There were too many of us living in the council house at 151 Cross Street, so we doubled up.  I had a bed in Mam and Dad's bedroom.  I would hear him say, "Good night, my darling," to Mam at night.
     I think, of all my sisters, I was closet to Doll (twin of Win).  She and Jack, her husband, would take Molly and me with them on holiday, even on their honeymoon.  They rented a caravan at the coast.
     Nanna was weak and ill for awhile after my birth, so Win was the one who took care of me as a baby.  Jack always 'took up for me (protected me),' especially against Mick because she could be very nasty, was jealous and lashed out and 'gave me her hand.'  Jack would get her back for it.
     I think Mam and Dad must have had a difficult time with that many (10) in the house and with all the squabbling that went on.  All my siblings were older than me and were off at work each day.  As a child, I spent most of my time with Molly, Kit's daughter, who lived with us. " --Joan Shelton

left to right, top--Nell, Kit, Win, Nanna
bottom--Molly (Kit's daughter), Joan, Doll

Joan and Molly at Win's wedding--notice the similar
 dresses made by Nanna

Joan and niece, Molly

     "Mam and Dad took me and Molly everywhere with them.  Some Sundays we would ride the bus to Oxton to visit Grandad and Granny Strutt.  He was a lovely old gentleman.  Granny looked to be 100 even though she was only 72 when she died.  We went for long country walks, stopping for ice cream somewhere.  Sometimes we would go in (split the cost) with Mam's brother and rent the local limo to visit relatives at New Holland, near Hull, for the day."          --Joan Shelton

bottom row, left to right--Doll, Mick and back row, left to right--Kit, Nell and Win--Jack, Joan and Molly not yet born

Bit of history:  Infant school is primarily for children in the UK between the ages of 4-5.  It is compulsory unlike nursery school.  Today in the UK, school is compulsory only until age 16 (14 in Momma's day), when the student can opt to continue schooling until 18, transfer to a college, seek paid work, or complete an apprenticeship.  A council house is a form of public housing built by the local council or government to provide affordable housing to working class people.  

"All grown-ups were once children. . .

"All grown-ups were once children. . . but only few of them remember it.

       --Antoine de Saint-Exupery, The Little Prince

     "I was born in the front bedroom at 151 Cross Street, Arnold, Nottingham, England, on April 25, 1927.  I was the seventh of Mam's children, and when I was born, Mam was 42, Dad was 41.  I had 5 sisters and 1 brother.  Kit was born in 1911, Nell in 1912, Winn and Doll in 1916, Mick in 1918, and the only son, Jack, in 1921.  When I was born, Kit, my eldest sister, was 16.
     I had a very loving childhood; I adored Mam and Dad.  They were so hard-working.  Mam took in washing, and Dad kept four allotments going so that we always had good healthy food on the table.
     Dad worked as a blacksmith at his forge four days a week.  On the fifth day, he went around to all the local farms, shoeing horses and repairing farm machinery.  He also built some beautiful wrought iron objects.  In Oxton, a village near Arnold, he build a huge wrought iron gate which is still there today.
     I spent many hours with Dad at his forge badgering him with question after question.  I loved to blow the bellows and see the fire flare up.  I still get goosebumps when I see a blacksmith working.
     Dad had a lovely Golden Retriever named Rex who walked with him to work each day.  He rescued the dog from a local farm where he was being abused."                                 --Joan Shelton        

Dad with Rex

Bit of history:  An allotment is a small piece
of land leased by the owner to individual gardeners.  An allotment usually has room for a shed and beds.  Its main purpose is for the growing of fruits, vegetables and flowers.
     Dadda, my grandfather, worked 4 allotments. He had a lot of mouths to feed--9 in all!  I imagine he also grew food in the long, narrow backyard at 151 Cross Street.
     Look at the eyes on the picture of Momma above.  She's 84 now, but her eyes are the same.
Pity the picture isn't in color so we could see their vivid blueness.

Love and Marriage

 "In every conceivable manner, the family is link to our past, bridge to our future."  --Alex Haley

St. Mary's, Arnold, present day--the picture below was taken in front the
arched side doors

left to right--Joseph Shelton, Emily Shelton, Mary Peck, Joe (?), Frank Shelton,
Joan Shelton, Albert  Strutt, Molly (Marian Ivy) Strutt, Hannah Strutt

     "We were married Saturday, June 28th., 1947, 10 am, at St. Mary's Church, Arnold.  I made my own dress and Molly's and Mary's, too.  Mine was white lace over a satin under slip.  It had a dropped waist at the front, a square neckline, and was trimmed with sequins.  I had to save and beg and borrow clothing coupons off family to get enough material for my dress because we were still under rationing in 1947. 

     We had a family only lunch reception including a traditional double-tier English fruit cake with marzipan and royal icing.  For the wedding cake, I had to beg and borrow ration coupons from my mam and Frank's mam, especially for butter.  A local baker on Front Street in Arnold baked and decorated the cake.  

     After the reception, Frank and I traveled by train to Portsmouth and then by ferry to the Isle of Wight for a brief honeymoon." --Joan Shelton, Sept. 2011

Bit of history:  Before, during, and after WW II, "the Ministry of Food" (wouldn't you like to be the minister of food?) instituted a system of rationing. To buy most rationed items, each person had to register at chosen shops, and was provided with a ration book containing coupons.  The shopkeeper was provided with enough food for registered owners.  Purchasers had to take ration books with them when shopping so the relevant coupon or coupons could be cancelled.  Traditionally after a wedding there was a seated luncheon called a wedding breakfast. "

Frank and Joan Shelton, age 20, 1947

Pay careful attention to the "bouquet" Dad is holding.  Note the rolling pins, wooden spoon, and horseshoe (don't want your luck to run out)!  Is it significant that Dad is holding it and not Mam?

     "Traditionally photos were taken outside the church immediately after the ceremony, or inside if it was raining.  While photos were being taken, relatives and close friends presented the bride with wedding souvenirs--horseshoes, wooden spoons, rolling pins, all decorated with lace and ribbon."

The newlyweds on their way to Portsmouth and the Isle of Wight

And so it begins . . . I was born.

     In England in 1955 most babies were born at home.  I was born two weeks late on Wednesday evening, July 14th, at 3 Chestnut Grove, Arnold, Nottingham, England.  When Mam went into labor, Dad called the nurse and walked Maureen down to stay with Momma and Pop, his parents.  By the time he walked back home, he heard my cry from the upstairs window.   I finally made my appearance with the help of Nurse Greensmith;  Mam was "chuffed to bits" and glad to have it over.

3 Chestnut Grove as it looks today

Maureen pushing me in the pram

     Maureen, 5 years old, is pushing me in the pram (perambulator), more commonly known in the US as a stroller, along Mapperley Plains, about a mile away from Arnold and overlooking Nottingham.  Sadly this is the only photo I could find of me as an infant.  That's my bit of head poking out from under the blanket.  Prams were mostly for infants; the baby would lie down facing the pusher.

We start and end with family.

Dear Erik,
    You might be asking why I'm doing this.  My motivation is really Dad's death in December 2008.  I realized there were still many unanswered questions, many untold stories, and many things I needed to tell him . . . but, sadly, I ran out of time.  That has left an ache in my heart.  
     This is not to say I didn't, through the years, try to reach out to him.  I did, often.  He didn't like to dwell on the past or reminisce.  He didn't like to talk on the phone, and his letters seldom filled a single page.  He liked to keep things superficial, which was quite frustrating for me.  I think his reticence to speak of the past or to talk about his feelings had to do with his childhood.
     He used to say, "No one should have a childhood like mine."  More than once he told me that he'd had a dreadful childhood.  I never found out, for sure, what made his childhood so grim, although I have a few ideas, gleaned from other family members and from little bits of "bread" that Dad let drop now and again.  He wasn't an easy man to love, but still I did, and I always felt loved by him.  He would end his letters and birthday and Christmas cards, "Love you, always have, always will."
     He was "a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma . . . . "  I don't want to be a mystery to you.  I don't want you to have unanswered questions, untold stories, and things you wished you'd said to me but didn't.  I want you to know who you come from.  As the title says, "We start and end with family."  
     And so it begins.