White Haired Woman

Several weeks ago my right thumb ‘clicked’ when I unbent it. I thought something like, “Oh, that’s weird,” and did it again.

After trying it out several times and realising I now was experiencing ‘trigger thumb’, I stopped thinking about it and got on with whatever I had been doing.

You wouldn’t believe how many times a day one bends the thumb – not the whole thumb, but the midway joint. I soon realised that I had bent my thumb – and it hurt as it clicked! I decided to look on Google to see what was going on. Apparently, the clicking isn’t caused by arthritis, which is something I know is lurking within my body, but by an inflammation in a sheath inside my thumb. The suggestion is to sit with a packet of frozen peas on the inflamed joint but, for several reasons I didn’t want to do that.

My main reason was that the weather outside was really cold and there was a cold wind. The wind meant that any small gap in our house would allow freezing air to come inside and interfere with the heating. Despite new double glazing and a new boiler, the cold wind can always find a way in!

I can’t bear sitting still and doing absolutely nothing at all. I don’t mind sitting still, but to do nothing feels like a waste of time. Reading a book isn’t easy to do with one hand. Even an iPad needs two hands, particularly if there is a small dog also wanting attention! I could just sit and watch tv but I would get really restless after a while. If Dr. Google had suggested a time limit of, let’s say, 20 minutes, I might have searched the freezer for something to put on my thumb for that length of time but, there was no hint of timing. I had visions of sitting with a wet packet of peas for hours at a time…..

So, then I thought, there must be a splint I could make using an old lolly stick*. I went to the place where I keep a cache of lolly sticks but they had all disappeared! I complained to Julian that I didn’t have anything to make a splint from and he heroically found an old paint brush that had finally become unusable and cut it in half so that I had a small stick. I wrapped it with cotton wool and stuck it on my thumb with a plaster. The plaster wasn’t long enough to go round my thumb and the stick with its covering, so I used some sellotape to keep it in place.

That worked! My thumb didn’t bend. But, the stick stuck out beyond my thumb making it difficult to do things, like pick up a saucepan, cuddle the dog, use my iPad. Nevertheless, I persisted, removing it that night so I could wash some of the day’s grime away, then putting it back on for the remainder of the night. In the wee hours of the morning I was aware that my thumb was hurting – it felt like the splint was burning hot. In my semi- awareness I tore the thing off my thumb, and fell back into full sleep. (The adhesive on plasters* has a bad effect on my skin and makes it feel like it’s burning.)

Next day I looked on Amazon for a thumb splint. Several days later I received a packet containing six or seven little items, some plastic, some metal. I tried one of the plastic ones. It hurt my thumb – it wasn’t big enough; I tried the one slightly bigger which was okay-ish. You try walking around with a flesh-coloured piece of moulded plastic on your hand! It gets in the way, it is slippery so you have to be really careful when you pick up a heavy bottle or a dinner plate, and you still have to take it off numerous times a day when you wash your hands as it gets wet inside and is even more uncomfortable. I did try one of the metal ones but it was even more uncomfortable and still had all the same problems.

Back to Amazon. (I’m too far from shops to go out and look.) I found a fabric thumb splint that holds your thumb in place and wraps around your wrist, using Velcro to hold it in place. I ordered one and waited till my delivery day for it to be delivered. It came. After a little fiddling about, I got it on and spent the day wearing it. I still had to remove it to wash but it’s not shiny plastic or metal and I can pick up stuff and even cuddle Lola with it on.

Now for the mystery.

Yesterday was Julie day. Julie is in many ways my best friend, She comes to see me every Tuesday, plays with Lola, sits and chats while we have a coffee, then cleans all the places I don’t! One week it’s the downstairs and the next it’s everything upstairs. Yesterday was upstairs and after we played with Lola and had coffee, up she went with vacuum, cleaning materials etc. At some point before that she nodded at my splint and asked if it is helping. I said that it was and that I wish it would get better more quickly – so I know that I had it on at about 2pm and that I was downstairs then and didn’t go upstairs until bedtime – when I realised I wasn’t wearing it.

I went into the kitchen where I must have removed it before cooking – I have to wash my hands, rinse out pans etc so don’t wear it while I’m doing all that. I couldn’t see it anywhere so I went into the lounge. Nope, not there where I sit and watch tv nor on the floor next to my seat, nor on the bookcases behind the sofa where I sit, not on the chair where Lola sits and looks out the window, nor in the waste paper basket, nor in the hall on the chair, nor in the downstairs loo, nor in the utility area – not in the washing machine or the dryer – nor in the conservatory.

By now it was a bit later than I normally go upstairs with Lola, when we go through our bedtime rituals of cuddling, singing (I do that), sweetie eating (Lola does that), changing out of clothes and into pyjamas (me, again) etc etc. All that time I was searching for my splint – and I kept on bending my thumb, which hurt! I knew it wasn’t upstairs but I still kept looking! (I’m sure there’s a name for that kind of thing!)

Then, after songs were finished and I was lying in my place on the bed, I thought of places to check next day. I went through all the things I had done when tidying and cooking and remembered several places it might be: the red bag for recycling paper and card – I had broken up some Amazon packaging and put it in the bag; the drawer where I keep the hand towels and the food recycling bags (they break down into compost), where I spent a few minutes searching under the towels for the little ‘sticks’ that I put down the drain to help it clear the built up solids that seem to get down there: under the cushion on my chair at the table…..

This morning I came downstairs, thinking about my thumb splint. I looked in the red recycling bag where I had thrown all the paper and card last night – no, it wasn’t there. I checked in the drawer with the towels and looked between them – no, not there. In the washing machine, in the dryer, in the bin where I throw away the dryer lint, in the kitchen again where I keep spare cutlery, the drawer with dish towels, the hand towel drawer again and………I spotted a familiar colour – splint colour! And there it was! It wasn’t between the towels, it was off to the side and I just hadn’t spotted it earlier!

I had, of course also looked in the fridge! Old demented ladies put stuff in the fridge or the oven. I’m not demented! Hooray! I’m just short sighted. 👵🏻

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*Lolly sticks – popsickle sticks

*plasters – bandaids

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Just a year later – after several weeks of wearing the thumb splint, I stopped and found my thumb no longer clicked! It still doesn’t click on the 29th of March, 2026! What was that clicking all about?

This is the third part of my favourite places. If I were to name all my favourite places, I could make a list of 20 or 30 or even more – they would have been my favourite place at one specific time but for this set of posts, I’m sticking to places I’ve lived or spent many days, weeks, months or years in.

Place number three is Market Cross Cottage and the small town of West Malling in Kent. I have written about living in a small cottage in a busy High Street before (see The Market Cross Ghost, published in Oct. 2017) so, if you want details of the size, age, shape etc of that old home of mine, do please go back and read all about the ghost, the old prayer book etc etc. This evening I am concentrating on the town of West Malling.

In 1962, the young man I was going out with at the time lived in the small village of Wateringbury. To get home in the evening after attending the college we were both at, Tim had to take a train from Victoria Station in London to West Malling in Kent where one of his parents would pick him up for the short drive to Wateringbury.

Around ten years later Patty, my mother, decided we should move out of London and found a small cottage in the High Street of West Malling to buy. We all went to visit it and thought it was lovely and, some months later, we moved in. Living in the High Street was very convenient for a good many reasons – the shops were all at hand, there were several food shops including a ‘supermarket’ (really just a large self-service grocery store), there was an ‘off license’* next door to our house, several green grocers*, and, best of all, the library was just across the road! There were also, I seem to remember, something like 13 pubs!

The High Street changed a fair bit during the first few years we lived there. The ‘supermarket’ closed down and, sometime later that shop became a travel agent. The Fire Station and one of the pubs, up the road, were knocked down and a large shop called Cartier’s opened selling many frozen foods (including, during a short time one happy summer, Popsicles! (an American ice lolly on two sticks) We bought several lots before autumn, as I recall.

There were a few very useful shops in those first years which disappeared later – a large shop which sold gifts and stationery which also had a printing shop at the back; a takeaway Chinese restaurant just beyond the library; Briggs’ shop, which sold cigarettes, sweets and assorted items one tends to run out of after all the other shops have closed for the night. Mr Briggs stayed open until 9 o’clock every night, (and it fed my addiction to dark chocolate caramels during one long winter!) There was also a small department store called Viners, which took up several shop premises, upstairs and down. In later years Viners Undertakers was the last department still there, in one end of those premises, the others having been leased or bought by various other businesses.

Another shop which has disappeared, at least from the corner of Swan Street, was Baldocks. Baldocks sold a whole range of useful items like ex-army(?) bags in a green/khaki colour which were very useful as across-body handbags for us poor students, also jeans, army type jumpers, socks etc etc.

There was a launderette, a sweet shop, a news agency, a few restaurants, a few hairdressers, several estate agents, the aforementioned pubs, dress shops, gift shops, and – later on – two very useful charity shops where we did much of our Christmas shopping when our salaries didn’t seem to go far enough.

West Malling is where I first met Julian whose younger brother and father I had met earlier that year. Ralph, Julian’s dad, was an architect. He spotted a building just across the road from our house that needed saving and bought it. It had been the town’s Assembly Rooms at one time and, before it closed down, had been a toy shop but was, in the mid 70s, quite derelict.

Rumours spread about what the building would be used for. When I heard that it was going to be a wine-bar, my ears perked up! I was a primary school teacher and rarely met any new adults – I was too shy to go to pubs by myself and didn’t have a wide range of friends in the town. I decided that it would be good to get out of the house in the evening, once or twice a week, and work as a waitress in the wine bar. Other people who worked there were Ralph’s sister-in-law, Jackie, who was the brilliant chef and Julian’s youngest brother, Damien, who variously, ran the cellar bar and worked as a navvy on the building, We were joined by ‘Veronica’ who worked in the kitchen and ‘Betty’ who, like me, was a part-time waitress.

There were other waitresses, of course and other kitchen hands, also a bar manager, Charles, to whom I said, one Friday night in September1981, “Tonight Mr ‘Right’ is going to come in.”

And he did!

Sixteen years and several homes after that night, Julian and I moved back to West Malling, to open our Antique shop and Upholstery/Furniture Restoration workshop. We bought a building which had been one of the vast array of pubs, right next door to the old Assembly Rooms and directly across the street from Market Cross Cottage.

Those sixteen years had seen many changes in the High Street and were to see a fair few in the next seven years when we packed up our shop/business and moved away to the seaside.

*Off License – a shop selling alcohol in its various forms.

*Greengrocer – a shop selling fruit and vegetables.

My great-grandma Weller’s house was in Part One; in Part Two I will tell you about my Grandma Ethel’s house – it’s the second of two in Zanesville, Ohio.

Great-grandma Weller had two daughters – Louise and Ethel. I think they were probably taught at home by a governess, though I don’t know that for certain. They were both born in the last years of the nineteenth century and grew up in the house described in Part One.

As far as I know, I never met my great-aunt Louise though I do remember her daughter very well and may tell you about her and her life in another post. Ethel, my grandmother was considered very beautiful and caught the eye of a handsome young man called Frederick Grant, who had been in the Balloon Corps in WWI.

Ethel and Fred married and along came my mother, Patricia, in 1922. They all lived in the home my grandpa Grant bought for his wife. It was in a quiet part of Zanesville, a mile or two from the hustle and bustle of downtown. It was/is a brick-built house of two storeys plus attic and basement. Inside the front door to the right is a downstairs toilet, although I think in America it’s called a ‘cloakroom’ or ‘powder room’. Its one window was very narrow and has a metal decoration which would stop a burglar from breaking in through it, though Judy and I were so skinny we could go out that way!

On the opposite side there was a ‘library’ room with book-cases on most of the walls with cupboards underneath and a short-wave radio on a shelf. Later in its life it had a television on a shelf on the wall between the library and the drawing room. On that very television I remember seeing Elvis Presley’s appearance on the Milton Berle Show or perhaps The Steve Allen Show. I had thought it was the Ed Sullivan Show but I doubt if we would have been in Zanesville in the September of 1956 as we went to school in Worthington, Ohio, a suburb of Columbus, Ohio.

The drawing-room was a very formal room which had quite delicate furniture with light-coloured upholstery – a room which was not for playing in, so we considered it out-of-bounds, though I don’t think anyone ever forbade it. There was, however, a piano in that room and, if we wanted to play a tune on it, we would sit at the piano. The drawing room had two interior doors, one from the library and one from the hallway. It may have had French windows out to the terrace where Judy and I spent many hours with our friends in the summer holidays or, they could have just been windows.

Out in the hall one might notice a strange looking hole about 2” across with a cover on a hinge. This was part of a built-in vacuum system which must have had other openings throughout the house, though I don’t remember seeing them. I’m not certain it was in use in the 1950s but I was very impressed with the idea!

The main staircase was in this hallway, going up from the ground-floor towards the front of the house. I think there must have been an ornamental bannister as I don’t remember any of us sliding down it. Judy would have slid down it if it had been possible – she was always the daredevil of us three girls!

On the wall opposite the drawing-room were two doors – the left hand one took you into the formal dining room, the right hand one opened into a little space with coat cupboards, other storage cupboards and the back staircase (built for servants in the late 19th century but used by anyone in the mid 20th.)

Past the cupboards on the left and the stairs on the right was a door into what was probably called the Butler’s Pantry (but there wasn’t a butler!). In this room were cupboards holding crockery, others holding staples such as sugar cubes and dog biscuits (two of the things I have personal memories of trying to eat in that room!) Also, there was a table with a window high up above it, where I think people would have polished the silver, if there was any silver needing to be polished. And drawers for cutlery (silverware).To right and left were further doors – to the right was the kitchen and to the left was the dining room.

The kitchen was quite a good size. There was a bay to the left as you went in which held the fridge and freezer and the back door. Back in the kitchen a further bay to the left held a small table and 3 or 4 chairs where we would eat normally, leaving the grownups to eat in a civilised manner in the dining room, I guess. The main body of the kitchen had all the things kitchens have – sink, cooker (stove), cupboards for pots and pans, baking sheets and pans, turkey roasters and all sorts of other cookware and, of course, drawers for all the utensils one would find in a kitchen – wooden and metal spoons, mashers, ricers, basters, etc etc.

The dining room room had a large table and 6 or 8 chairs including two with arms (in England, those armed chairs are called carvers). The carvers were at the two ends of the table and were for the host and hostess, (or mum and dad) and the other, armless chairs were for guests (or kids). There was a sideboard on the wall leading back toward the kitchen. On a table next to the window-wall (looking out to the side garden) was a bird cage containing a canary whose name I have forgotten, I’m sad to say. On the farther end of the dining room was a door leading to an outdoor area which was enclosed by screen walls and with a ceiling which connected the house to the double garage.This was “The Breezeway”, a place to sit in the summer, out of the sun’s rays with breezes wafting through keeping one cool (supposedly, although the heat of an Ohio summer is very humid so I can’t imagine that it was really all that comfortable.)

Upstairs were four bedrooms for the family, two of which had en suites and two other smaller bedrooms for children or servants. There was also a bathroom to be shared near those rooms. In the same area is something I’ve always thought a good idea – a door, quite high up on the wall from which one can throw dirty clothes and linens, which will land in the basement where the utility room is situated. But before we go downstairs to the big basement, I’d like to describe the fourth family bedroom, one of the ones without its own en suite bathroom.

It was a long, slim room containing twin beds (I think). The right hand wall was all windows, floor to ceiling. In the heat of the summer, the windows could be removed and replaced by screens which allowed the air to circulate and the inhabitant to sleep. I can’t comment on whether it worked or not as I never slept in there but I can imagine it would have been quite pleasant in the hot summers.

The other bedroom without an en suite was where Judy and I often slept when we visited. Though it had no loo, and no bath or shower, behind a mirrored door, there was a basin with a mirror above it where we could wash. Across the landing was our Uncle Bill’s bedroom and the en suite for his room also had a door from the landing so we could use that for baths etc.

Now, to the cellar! I think the door to the cellar was in the Butler’s Pantry just outside the door into the kitchen. There were several rooms in the cellar – the utility room which had everything you’d need to wash and dry your clothes and linens – a big washing machine, a clothes line which went back and forth above your head, wall-to-wall and an ironing board and iron set up nearby. I think the furnace must have been in there, too, helping the hanging clothes to dry. It must have been hell working in there sometimes!

Outside the utility room was a smaller room which was used for storage. I remember seeing a large cardboard box containing rolls and rolls of toilet paper, and I seem to remember there were a couple of bikes, too. There was a door just outside this little room which led to the outside with steps going up to ground level.

The best room, by far, to us, was a huge room that had a giant mural on one (or more?) of the walls. It was in a sort of 30’s style of a woman leaning on a balcony railing – I think. It was the best because it had a smooth concrete floor and was, usually, quite tidy with very little in the way and we could roller skate all round it to our hearts’ content, although we only had one pair of skates so we had the odd argument about whose turn it was to have the skates.

Judy and I put on a show which was going to be for all our friends but I don’t remember any of them coming, so I think we rehearsed it a lot but couldn’t bring ourselves to actually invite anyone! In our show we were going to sing a duet of The Wayward Wind. If you had (or have) heard either of us singing, you might understand why the performance never took place!

As I said earlier, the place we spent most of the time when we visited was on the terrace which was at the back of the house. There were chairs and loungers, and tables. We entertained our friends there and enjoyed being outside. The garden extended quite far and at the end of a path there was a stone bench against the hedge which divided grandma Ethel’s garden from the next one, which,once upon a time, belonged to Ethel’s first husband’s mother and latterly by our cousins, the Stewarts.

So much for my favourite places in Zanesville (although I loved our house in Sunset Avenue, too). In future posts I hope to describe my favourite places in other cities where I have lived.