The House at Pooh Corner

We visited another house of my childhood on our holiday last week - The House at Pooh Corner - where we spent our earliest holidays in the 1950s.  I  think my granny sold it by the mid 50s and we stopped going to Cornwall.  .

I can remember nothing at all about the house itself, because all we  (us children, my siblings, cousins) wanted was to get outside, to run down the sandy path the beach.   The splendid beach. And, in the 1950s, the empty beach.  When I saw the sandy path with its snails, and the drifts of Thrift, I felt that the holiday had really begun. But I do remember the garden, which in those days was quite overgrown, as the house was empty most of the year.  It had steep steps down to the road, on which adders used to bask in the morning sun.

But somehow lots of uncles, aunts, cousins fitted in.  My granny never came down that I can remember.  I have a vague memory of a room filled with heavy brown furniture.  And I think that the dressing table in our bedroom here that was once my Great-Aunt Hilda's was in one of the bedrooms at Pooh Corner.

I also think that it was our grandad who gave the house its name, when he bought it back in the 30s, but I can't confirm that. There are so few of us left now who remember those days.  Maybe only me?


Wednesday morning was sunny, the afternoon rainy.  I went to see Maggie, having arranged to meet another sister there, but we found out she had been admitted to hospital. We hope to find out more at the Hall tonight, and see if we can arrange a visit.    Anyway, I was invited back for a cup of tea and a chat, which was nice - then I shopped, and posted the letter and card to Ken. 

There is so much I need to get on with - plus I hope to be back to the door to door Kingdom preaching work Friday and Saturday - but I feel terminally tired.

When I was talking to my sister yesterday she was saying how tiring she finds going on holiday now, the packing, getting the house ready, all the stress and tension of it.    And I wonder how much of an actual holiday our Cornish trips were for my parents. But us children loved them, and have some golden memories.