Letter 002 - Ravenswood

15th September, 2007.

Dear Jeremy,

Well, that is as far as I got yesterday and I am not sure if you really want to know all that ancient history. However, what it has done for me is to unlock a vast number of memories. Do you want me to go on?

As comfortable as Ravenswood was, there was no electricity or running water. We used candles and lamps until my Father set up a generator in a little room which he had blocked off at the end of the verandah on the left side of the house and wired the house for electricity. Later he built an engine house in the backyard and every afternoon my Mother started the engine by pulling a cord and then we would have light for the night. This also gave us sufficient current for a small radio so we could listen to the news. This was especially important during the war. On the wall was pinned a large map of Europe into which we stuck coloured pins where ships had been sunk and battles waged.

As there was no running water, rain water was collected from the roof and my Father connected taps to the kitchen and the bathroom. I remember my Mother climbing up on a ladder to empty a bag of lime into the tanks as rain water she said was lacking in calcium. The water was heated for the bath by a small heater also connected to the tank. It burned small bits of wood and sticks and newspaper. It was quick and efficient.

Of course there was no flush toilet either and the lavatory, or "lav" as we called it, was down the bottom of the backyard. It was made of wood and iron and had a wooden seat with a shaped hole and a bucket underneath. Every week the garden boy (gardener) would dig a hole in the garden and early on Sunday mornings Dad would empty the contents of the bucket into the hole and cover it with lime and soil. Later there was a 'night soil' collection and buckets would be replaced regularly by a team of workers. If one needed 'to go' at night there was a chamber pot (potty) under each bed. Each morning these were emptied on the garden as fertilizer.

You have heard many times how I was caught in the lavatory with a puff adder (snake) which came in by the door where it had not been close right up. I was terrified of snakes, and I still am, I screamed and my mother came running and pushed open the door. I had in the meantime jumped up on to the seat and grabbed a bottle of “dip”, like Jeyes Fluid (disinfectant), which was always kept there to pour into the bucket. As my Mother pushed the door open I dashed the bottle down on the the adder and jumped right out of the door and passed my Mother. The gardener, hearing my screams, had also come running and killed the snake which he hung up on the washing line for all to see. That is what people did when they killed a snake.

There were other snake episodes. Our dear little Fox Terrier was bitten by a puff adder and hid under the outhouse so we could not get to him. When he finally came out his head was all swollen, I shall never forget the sight. He died.

Another time my Mother had dressed my brother Gerald and me ready to go to town in the bus. While she got ready herself she asked me to look after Gerry. I went to the toy box which was three paraffin boxes made into a seat and placed across a corner of the room. Behind the seat we kept our toys. Above hung a canary in a cage. Imagine my horror when I lean't over to reach the toys and there lay coiled, a large green snake, a boom-slang (tree snake). The garden boy dispatched that one too and hung it on the washing line. The horrible thing about snakes is that their bodies keep twitching after the head has been chopped off, until the sun goes down (or so it is said, and we believed). I can't remember if we still managed to catch the bus to go to town. Then there was the one that lay across the top of the gate found by my father and was dispatched by him. That one could have bitten him as he went to open the gate.

There was one frightening case of a girl at school who had been bitten by a puff-adder when she got out of bed one night. She had a bad foot for quite a long time. After that I always looked under my bed before getting into it.

You asked me to write about my family .....

Though we did have friends most of our social life was spent visiting other members of the family. Both grandparents lived in another village, two or three miles away, called Woodbrook. Part of Woodbrook is now called Greenfields. My Grandfather, Sydney Smith, was a blacksmith and I remember his blacksmith shop and furnace in which he heated up the iron to shape into parts for machinery and implements. He used to shoe horses but that was before my time as by then people had motor cars or bicycles and there were very few horses about.

Their house, also built of wood and iron was next door to the blacksmith shop. I remember a very large black stove like an Aga on which my Grandmother, Amelia Smith (nee Leighton) did the cooking. Grandpa was born in South Africa but Granny came out from England as a young girl with her Aunt and Uncle. I think they were called Ellison after whom their second son was named. We were very impressed when Uncle Ellie, as we called him, installed a flush toilet in the house so we no longer had to go down into the garden to use the 'long drop' which was always quite frightening for us children. The 'long drop' was a deep hole, the wooden seat had two holes, one big for adults and the other small for children. When that filled up it was covered over and another hole dug and the building moved over that one. They also had a generator engine and electricity in the house. They also had a telephone which not many people in the area had. It was on a party line so you had to listen for your ring, I think it was one long and two short.

My Mother's parents, William and Anna Young lived further down in the village almost on the high bank of the Buffalo River. Grandpa was of Irish descent, his Father served in the Indian Army but I think his Mother was English - I always thought the photograph of her which hung in the house was very beautiful - it now hangs in Timothy's house.

Grandpa was a cripple - we do not say that these days - he had a bad leg or hip but that did not stop him walking nor riding his horse but when I knew him he had a small car. He had trained as a tailor because of his disability. He had his own business in East London where he went each day to work. They too had a wood and iron house in a very big garden. Granny grew flowers and supplied a florist in town. She was renowned for the special large pink carnations called Reginas which she grew. There was a line of loquat trees running down one side of the garden and a deep water well. I remember looking down into the depth of that well and how strange our voices sounded as we called down into it. There was a large lawn where the washing was done and where we played. We enjoyed the juicy oranges which grew on a large tree. We would roll them under a foot until they were soft then poke a hole in the top to suck the juice out. We also enjoyed the avocado pears which grew down the path leading to the garage. They also had telephone, their ring was two short rings.

My Grandmother was of German extraction her name was Werth. I never heard her speak German only English. She was a very good cook - I wish I had taken after her. Both grandfathers served on the Village Management Board and I believe a street was named after Grandpa Smith. They were well respected in the community.

Love Mum

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