Look what drew up outside our house tonight.
I’m going to get invited to the Fire Service Christmas party at this rate.
Fortunately they didn’t rush up to the door with axes. Instead they went to the house across the road and climbed in through an upstairs window as the owner had, it appears, locked himself out.
That took me back to the early ’60s when we were living in Blackburn. We went to the seaside and spent the day at Southport, which always seemed like a treat compared to a day in Blackpool. Even now I can’t tell you why I preferred Southport and Morecambe to the bustle of Blackpool. It may be something to do with the time we went up Blackpool Tower and I discovered I was scared of heights.
Whilst relaxing on the beach the shop keys fell out of my Dad’s pocket. We sifted a lot of sand but never did find them.
On arriving home we rang the fire brigade for help and, as today, they entered by an upstairs window.
The difference between the two events, apart from nearly 60 years and 150 miles, was that we had a dog, a Border Terrier called Pip. He had been left to guard the house and that’s what he did. Fortunately we were able to distract him while the firemen entered and opened the door.
Ah, memories…
As you may notice, we have lace curtains so I can twitch them whilst spying on neighbours. I didn’t need to do that today, I just sat in my chair and took the photo. It’s probably my laziest ever blog post.
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Nice story!
Thank you.
Southport was the beach of choice for my husband Richard’s family when he was young. I have never been there, or to Morcambe or to Blackpool though I have been promised a stay in the Midlands Hotel in Morcambe if we ever decide to visit the NW coast. I have only ever locked myself out once and I never thought to phone the Fire Brigade. I called a locksmith and it cost me a fortune. The locksmith was a bundle of laughs too, complaining about wasting his time etc!
I once watched a locksmith open a Yale lock and as a result was able to let a neighbour in when they locked themselves out. I felt happy about being helpful until I found out they were telling people that I must have been a burglar in a previous life.
Typical!
Particularly as I’m clearly not built for housebreaking. 🙂
😀
Piet Mondrian would have been proud of that photograph. You must know I am scared of heights, too. One time in Newark I had shut myself out. I propped a ladder against an upstairs window I knew to be unlocked. I couldn’t get up there. My visitor had to do it 🙂
It’s a good thing you had a visitor. 🙂
🙂
So convenient to be comfortable while all the excitement is going on. I am in complete agreement with you about the ice cream truck.
🙂
You have lived a life of constant fun and it seems to be continuing every day.
I’m beginning to worry about what’s next – after two fire engines and a police car it could well be an ambulance. On the other hand, it might be an ice cream van. 🙂
I recall that once in about 1989 I had moved to a tiny village in Durham and locked myself out at night and the landlady next door wasn’t in. The fire department didn’t want to know until I mentioned that it was winterand I was outside in my sleeping clothes. They showed up fast and were very disappointed that it was modest clothing–I did at least get in though.
🙂 Ah, the memories…
Seriously, the memories of having a figure that anyone would not frankly snicker at…those were the days!
I know what you mean – if I pull my belt too tight these days I look like a number 8 (and other ancient jokes…).
Better than pulling it tight and still looking like the number 0–
🙂 🙂 🙂
We used to visit my Mum’s parents in Wigan and occasionally we would go to Southport. As Captain Scott so famously said, “Great God, this is an awful ,place”. We never did get to the sea, giving up through exhaustion after three hours walking.
Morecambe was the one I remember being all beach with distant sea, though I don’t remember geting in the water at Southport either now you mention it.