This is a view of the street I was born in. For reasons that were never made clear to me, my parents dispensed with the normal routine of fashionable health care and decided (or maybe they did not decide at all!) to let me be born in the front room. I would live in the same house for the next 19 years, until I left to study in far flung Sunderland. It’s strangely grounding to live within feet of the spot you were born. Maybe that accounts for my (slightly over blown) sense of place in the childhood landscapes I remember.
I was born in the spring that followed the coldest winter for a generation, and I cannot really imagine what it must have been like inside the house during those snowy months – although “cold” springs to mind.
It’s an ongoing source of amusement to me that I now live a house with central heating (for only the second time!) in a part of the country where it’s rare to have frosts and I can wear shorts for most of the year. I think my mum would have liked the warmth.
You can find more pictures from around the world at Our World Tuesday.
You can find more of my rambling thoughts on the world by clicking the Paying Ready Attention image on the RHS of this page.
Enjoy the pictures.