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Meetings are held on the first and third Tuesdays of the month at Dancox House Club Room, St Clements Gardens, St Johns, Worcester from 7.30 pm to 9.30pm.
If you want to know more about Worcester Writers' Circle, please telephone Sue Round, Secretary 01905 619062.
Probably the oldest writers' circle in the country, we have grown from half a dozen enthusiasts in the dark days of the Second World War, to a thriving and productive group of people who share their experiences, successes and pitfalls at each meeting. We have a wide range of writers, some published professionals, some occasionally appearing in magazines, and many newcomers eager to see their name in print.
At a normal meeting, we read from our work, sometimes on a theme set for the evening and we offer advice and reactions. A cup of tea and a chat of course, and discussions about markets, successes and rejections. Sometimes we have a speaker from amongst our ranks, or a guestjoining us for the evening. Our interests are wide - stories, Westerns, nostalgia, poetry, biography, roofing and cats have all featured at our meetings. If you can get to Worcester, (that's the one in Worcestershire, England) give us a try.
Charlie
by Phyllis Handley
Joan carefully folded up the news paper, ready to save it for her six year old grandson. He always collected her old newspapers as a part of his contribution towards the schools project about energy saving. For a few moments she allowed herself the indulgence of remembering when she was six years old. Oh yes, she could remember it well because the second world war was on, and for her safety was evacuated to live with her grandmother in the country.
Now what would Gran have done with this newspaper? She asked the neighbours cat who spent more time in her kitchen than in his own home. Well, Ill tell you. For one thing my Gran lived by the motto of use everything and waste nothing. This paper would have been stacked in a box with the small fire lighting sticks. Some of it was made into spills for lighting the candles, cigarettes, gas oven or pushed under our garden rubbish to get a bonfire started. Quite a lot of it was kept in the outside toilet, we only tore off enough for our own use because Gran liked to sit there and read any news she had missed. Sometimes newspapers were used to line the bottom of a chest of drawers and we would throw lavender seeds on top to make it smell nice. When it rained and everywhere outside was muddy, we spread it on the kitchen floor to keep the tiles clean. Of course if any windows rattled, we rolled up a sheet of newspaper and rammed into the side of the window frames and it also stopped any draughts coming in. So there you are cat, we havent always had central heating, and indoor plumbing.
Joan bent down and placed the newspaper on top of some others in her beloved kitchen cupboard. The old pine cupboard with its two zinc mesh doors and one shelf. It was only 20 inches wide,36inches long and 24 inches high but it held some of the best memories of her childhood. It had originally belonged to her grandmother who used it as a store cupboard for all her home-made jam.
Even now Joan could still remember using the top of the cupboard as her kitchen work table. Sometimes with her dolls pastry set she would eventually managed to make two jam tarts, which her grandmother always cooked and smiled when she ate one.
Occasionally when a fruit cake was being made some of the mixture was placed in a basin, and with a dessert spoon Joan was asked to give it a good stir because Gran had too much in her mixing bowl. Yet when the two lots were scrapped together, they never filled the cake tin.
One day Joan shouted to tell her Grandmother that a big spider had run underneath the jam cupboard. Have a look to see if he comes out the other side, her Grandmother replied If he stays there, its only Charlie going home from his night shift. Always remember Joan, if you want your kitchen to live and thrive always let a Charlie run alive.
Why?
Because he kills all the filthy flies that try to come into your kitchen.
One September morning Joan remembered her grandmother making some Victoria Plum jam and, putting it to cool on top of the cupboard. Then she was given an indelible pencil to lick and write VP on the jam labels. During the afternoon some Damson jam wouldnt set and Gran didnt know what was wrong with the Drattin stuff When Gran started Drattin she knew her Grandmother was in a temper, and it would best to keep out of sight for awhile. Joan became very curious about the sound of glass breaking, but didnt dare venture into the house. Later her Grandmother explained that a jar of that dratted damson jam had slipped out of her hand, smashed onto the floor, splashed everywhere and stained the side of her cupboard.
The following morning Grans bottom lip was all purple from licking the indelible pencil and the jam labels read Dam---- 1942.
Joan was a teenager when her Grandmother died but could remember her mother smiling when she said Everyone is happy about the way mum has bequeathed everything to us, her four children.
Evidently Gran had written a note and pinned it on the back of all her possessions. On the back of a grandfather clock her note said This clock is for George. Her walnut bedroom suite was for Elizabeth. The dining table and chairs for Bill. A treadle sewing machine for Doris and throughout the house they found her hand written notes. Finally in her best handbag they found an envelope with her funeral money inside, with yet another note telling them, whatever is left whether its money, goods or chattels, divide it equally and dont have any arguments. And as far as Joan could remember they didnt have any.
It wasnt until the 1960s that Joan saw her grandmothers cupboard again. One wet Saturday morning while waiting for Mark, her husband, she sheltered in the doorway of a second-hand furniture shop pretending to look at some trays of old jewellery when she saw the damson stain.
Mark knew all about Joans happy memories when she had been evacuated to her Grandmothers so when Joan said Thats my Grans old cupboard. Oh! Mark we must buy it. I really, really want that cupboard he knew it wasnt any good arguing. Before they even entered the shop he also knew she didnt care if it was falling to pieces or full of woodworm, she would just expect him to restore it.
The shopkeeper recognised the sign of a sale the minute he saw Joans face, and Mark inwardly groaned to himself when they walked in and she said I want that cupboard.
No, he couldnt lower the price from 3.0.0. Such a beautiful well-made solid cupboard, apart from a bit of a stain on the one end, it was as good as the day it was made. But as a favour he would deliver it for free on his way home that evening.
Sunday morning Mark teased Joan by offering to paint her cupboard red and stick a piece of blue formica on the top, which would match the rest of their kitchen.
But you can help me to carry it outside, she told him. This is the sort of spring day when Gran would say We are going to take that cupboard outside, scrub it from top to bottom, and from inside to outside. It will dry in the wind and bleach in the sun.
Joan began scrubbing but it wasnt until she turned the cupboard over that she noticed and recognised some handwriting then began shouting for Mark to come outside and read this Look. she told him Look at whats written on the bottom. I bet Grans lips were purple that day. She did leave me a note. I was meant to have this cupboard. Look read that.
And still legible from the purple indelible pencil Mark read If you want your kitchen to live and thrive, always let a Charlie run alive.
opyright © 2004 Phyllis Handley