Storytelling Sunday: Endlessly Intrigued by the Passage of Time

Are you ready? Then it's time to begin..

As I was falling asleep the other night, and thinking about my story for today, a snatch of something came into my head. Did I read it somewhere? I don't know, but I like it. "Endlessly intrigued by the passage of time". That's me. I'm endlessly intrigued. I studied History for years; and often now the stories I love the most pull the past into the present, even if it's only by one single thread. It's a one thread story today; and it's dedicated to Ruth (whose talent for mailing exactly the right thing has cheered many of us at exactly the right time); and it goes like this:

When we moved into this house five years ago, the first thing I decided I loved was the view from our bedroom window. One thing especially I used to see every morning when I opened the curtains

A red pillar box, on the other side of the road, where the big old houses are. I'd been passing that pillar box for years, as a child; a teenager; a student; and its story was always the same.

Over fifty years ago now, my Mum was a young teacher. She had an interesting job visiting sick children in their own homes, providing "Home Tuition" as it was called. (Although, when I think of that job now, I think of all the things we weren't allowed to do as children because she had seen the results. Snowballs could bring blindness, messing about in the bath could end in a broken back.). And she drove herself between jobs, at a time when there weren't too many other cars around some of those streets.

Anyway, one winter the roads were covered in snow, treacherous; and my Mum's little car skidded - right onto the pavement and into that pillar box. When she had gathered herself together and inspected her nose (which would have a bump forever after), she decided to phone for help and she knocked on the door of the nearest big house. Yes, they had a phone (this was fifty years ago, remember) and yes, she could use it - but would she mind leaving an address so that she could be contacted for payment? For a phone call! From a big house! In an emergency! In the snow.

We heard that story as children every time we passed the pillar box. And when we found this house and I saw it standing there, it made me smile. I loved that link with something from fifty years ago, especially as my Mum doesn't live here in the city any more. And then, one day I woke up and it had gone. Just like that. It had outlived its usefulness and been taken away. The thread was broken.

So I guess what I'm saying today is - take that photo, tell that story while you can. I missed the photo. I was too late. But I've written my story. And if you have written yours, you are very welcome to add it below. Just make sure that you add a link back here so that your readers can join in too; and do take a few minutes to enjoy some of the other tales. It's only half a story until somebody listens!

Before I head off to do some listening, I'd like to offer a big thank you to everyone who has emailed me or blogged about Scrap 365. Special thanks are due to Alana for sending the photos of my pages in print. I'm so delighted  those of you with subscription copies have received, read and raved about the first issue! There will be plenty more to come, so if you haven't ordered a copy yet, here is where you need to be..

..and enjoy your Sunday!