Smoking

In October my brother, CJ, and I went to the 1950s Museum in Denbigh, North Wales. It is a fascinating place and, for those of a certain age, it evokes many memories and, for those who are younger, it doubtless causes differing degrees of disbelief. I hope to write a few posts on the museum but this one is specifically on smoking and the, now, unbelievably different attitude to smoking's acceptability in every aspect of life. Who, for example, could ever believe that this advert might actually produce positive results:

I'm sure some of these pictures will bring back memories for some of my older UK readers:

Capstan Full Strength, Senior Service and Players were preferred by men and were rarely (if ever) sullied by a filter tip (I'm pretty confident in saying).

Balkan Sobranie were favoured by people who wished to make a statement (I'm not quite sure which statement) and people who just loved the 'different' taste. My Grandmother smoked Woodbine from pre-teen years (illicitly) until she died at the age of 93. My special treat for her on occasion was to bring in a box of Sobranie.

I had completely forgotten about Park Drive but that was the cigarette that my mother smoked until she gave up - possibly in her 40s. However until she died (again at the age of 93 like her Mother) she always craved a cigarette after dinner.

Pipe tobacco. My Dad smoked Condor (or occasionally St Bruno) all his life (he died at 94). My Uncle smoked the pipe tobacco Cut Golden Bar or Gold Block until he gave up some time before he died (as his Mother and Sister had done at 93).

I gave up cigarettes in May 1967 just having bought a box of 50 Piccadilly Tipped and smoked 3 of them. I threw them across the office declaring I would never smoke another cigarette as long as I lived. The office junior scrabbled round picking them all up and made off with them after asking if he could have them before I changed my mind. I have never smoked a cigarette since.

RIP Dad

Morris Thompson Edwards

Bentley at Le Mans

A few months ago when I was in New Zealand the subject came up somewhere in Blogland of pictures which we had in our houses.  I have brought some of my pictures back from New Zealand this time and the question has arisen as to where they will be shown.  I have many more pictures than I have space to show them so I swap some pictures around.  This has the advantage that I become more aware of the pictures and I actually get to see more than I would see if they were always static.  Of course some pictures just live in 'their' place and never move.  This is happening to more pictures as time and the collection progresses.

Anyway I thought I would accede to the request and show you some of my pictures over the next few months.

The first one (for no particular reason) is one which John and Sue bought me for my 60th Birthday.  The story is that John and Sue and I had been having lunch in Angoulême when I was staying with them in France and we went to a gallery and I happened to see this picture and remarked that I liked it because it portrayed the Le Mans race of 1929 and a Bentley 4½ litre 'Big Six' similar to the one which my Uncle Eric had possessed.  No 10 shown in the picture won the 1929 race.

The picture is now in my living room over the roll top desk which was also Uncle Eric's and which was and is one of the few 'things' I possess which is of exceptional importance to me.  It lived inside the front door of the cottage in Clophill in Bedfordshire that my Uncle lived in when I was knee high to a grasshopper.  I always wanted to roll my marbles along the roll-top but Mum forbid me to do so.