The coastland times., 1956-03-02
THE HIGHER
THE FEWER
There's Always Plenty of Room
At The Top
NANCY J. MIDGETT


window panes? If / let my mind
Jump just a stort distance away
from it and prod into the grey
matter, the next thing l think of
is the weather in Tenterden, Co.
Kent, England, when my sister
wrote from my niece's home on the
22nd of this month; the tempera-
ture was then bobbing back and
forth between 16 degrees and %
degrees and Grace was not putting
her feet out doors unless she was
held up by my niece, for the roads
were either slushy from left over
snow or icy.
She is of more slippery nature
than l, or at least than used to
be. / don't quite know how l
would cope now with a really vast
expanse of black, slippery ice when
in the act of hurrying to catch "a
train to work. l remember setting
out one winter morning on my
usual twenty minute or so walk
to the station; l had covered about
half the distance, that is to the
end of our road, then west up
Kings road, and had turned into
the final straight stretch of Rich
mond road, where all we COM
muters made our best time on the
trot before landing at the station
in a bunch, when on stepping
down the kerb to cross one of the
secondary roads, my next recollec-
ton was of ending up on my back
in the gutter on the opposite side
Of the road. had apparently
made the crossing on my shoulder
blades which at least saved the
nervous strain on my leg muscles
for minute.
Having picked myself up and
pressed on stationwards for the
next ten minutes or so of trotting
and shuffling, a very polite and
concerned gentleman asked if l
were alright. The fact that l had
made the rest of the journey under
my own power spoke for itself /
thought, but all the same it was
kind of him to ask. He apparently
had been on the other side of the
main road and viewed the incl
dent, q often wonder what else
he had viewed) but before he had
edged across the road 1 had been
up and away.
Thinking back on all that, may
be we are lucky to have the drip
outside and slightly warmer tenn
perature. My goose pimples are
getting less day by day and 1 even
have managed to get little clean
ing up done in the garden and
have thoughts of spring cleaning
in the house; l feel l have achieved
something if even get to the
length of thinking about the jobs
with some degree Of anticipation.
1t will be nice to get back into
shorts and shirts or something
equally cool once more and the
time saved dressing is great gift
to me. When there is need for pill
ing on the clothes in winter and
one is as absent minded as l
sometimes get, it is not unusual
for me to find that am about
two garments ahead of some un-
seen but necessary drape which is
still hanging over the back of a
chair, leering at me when l think
l am at last ready to hit the road.
Speaking of clothes and connect
ed with that same stretch of road
that lead from SO Burton Road,
our home, to Kingston railway
station, is another story that al
ways brings forth belly laugh
in our family.
Sister Grace was always hard to
get up in the morning, (my mother
said she didn't even want to get
born she was so comfortable where
she was) and of all four of us,
Ken, Alec, Grace and myself, she
was usually the last one to stagger
painting up the slope to the plat
form gates to catch the 7:3O am.
or $3.50 am. to Waterloo Station,
London. One morning l waited for
her in vain with her ticket in nv
hand, for that week we couldn't
afford season ticket. / was some
what disturbed so waited at Wa
terloo station to see if she would
come through on the next train
which at that time ran every fif-
teen minutes. Sure enough there
she was and after time she man.
aged to tell me what had occurred.
1t was the day of satin bloomers
and black satin at that if you were
in the fashion, though l myself
didn't lean to the idea; Grace how
ever had bloomed out and had one
pair and this was one of the days
that she was wearing them.-I say
was-for while she was in full
flight on the way to the station
and had only covered about half
the distance. the elastic in tho ron