The Table in Front of the Fire

When I was young my mum and dad both worked but my dad had 3 jobs all working for the local Cooperative Society. There was the milk round, the bakers van then sometimes the coal lorry. On the nights when he was on the coal lorry he was always in quite a bit later, especially in the winter when more coal was needed for everybody's fire.

On those nights my mum used to bring the table through and put it in front of the fire. Dad would come in and go for a wash before coming through in his vest and jammie bottoms to sit and have his dinner. I was always fascinated at how he could carry those big bags of coal and used to see his back covered in big red marks and bruises from the coal.

Mum would bring through the dinner, sometimes tatties and mince, sometimes just soup then a pudding like semolina which my dad loved with a big dod of jam in the middle and some milk.

Frequent power cuts which were happening at the time just seemed to add to the cosy feel with candles everywhere. It was really cold but didn't always seem to be. Just sitting there blethering with the fire glowing, sometimes with old shoes and stuff burning because we couldn't always afford coal and eating my mum's cooking was just the best. When I look back it is absolutely the most abiding memory I have from my childhood. Winter time, dark nights, warm fire and so much love it brings a lump to my throat and a tear to my eye whenever it comes to mind.

Sometimes it's just a wee thing that takes you right back to a place in time that was just so special to you that other folk might not understand it.

For me it's the table in front of the fire.