In the heart of Ashington—a bustling Geordie mining town—a handsome red-brick vicarage, surrounded by rambling gardens, stands proudly among the rows of terraced houses. It is the perfect place for playing games, keeping secrets, and chasing the ghosts of previous occupants, and it will be nine-year-old Barbara's new home now that her father is to be vicar in this strange new place. In this charming memoir, Barbara Fox recalls a childhood where parishioners knocked on the door at all hours of the day and night, and where no one batted an eye at the collection of waifs and strays who regularly joined the family at the kitchen table. This is a warm-hearted, classic tale of family, community, and the unforgettable thrill of childhood adventure.
Barbara Fox was inspired to write her first book, 'Bedpans & Bobby Socks', after reading the letters her mother, Gwenda Gofton, wrote home while working as a young nurse in 1950s America.
She worked with shepherdess Emma Gray on 'One Girl and Her Dogs', an account of Emma's first year running a farm in an isolated part of Northumberland, before writing 'Is the Vicar in, Pet?', her own childhood memoir about growing up in the mining town of Ashington, Northumberland.
'When the War Is Over' turns back the clock to Gwenda's childhood during the Second World War and her evacuation to a Lake District schoolhouse.
Barbara's most recent work is as editor of 'Eve's War', the wartime diaries of Evelyn Shillington, who accompanied her officer husband to postings all over the UK.
Excellent autobiography, very well written. A very interesting tale about growing up in a vicarage in the heart of a mining village. Barbara describes very well how the vicar's family life isn't their own, in the sense that not only is "Dad" also the vicar and at everyone's beck and call both physically and spiritually, but also those well meaning friends and neighbours, especailly the Church ladies, who take it upon themselves to organise the vicarage on removal day and drop in at all hours of the day or night. But on the whole, the family is made welcome, and reciprocates by making the village welcome too (no one had EVER been inside the Vicarage for a social, before, for instance) and the portrayals are very real and vivid. Some great characters, wonderfully portrayed, all the minutae of life which makes villages what they are. Part of the story revolves around a dispute at the pit, and how it affects the village, and a lot of healing is needed. Barbara grew up a few years earlier than I did and some of the cultural references are pertinent to my childhood. Particuarly vivid was a reference to her baby brother being read "Tootles the Taxi", a reference to a book that I had when I was about 3, and instantly I was taken back to that age and could even picture myself holding the book! All in all an excellent read and one I'd recommend to anyone interested in the North East, mining communities, life in a Vicarage, or what a small community in the 1960s and 70s was like
A memoir about growing up in the 1970s in the Geordie mining "village" of Ashington, where the author's father was vicar. The parts that dealt with life in the vicarage and the coming and goings of parishioners who embrace the whole family were the most interesting - from the title, I'd expected more of the book to be about this. Remembering myself the power cuts and the three day week of the miner's strike time, that was also of interest. However, whole chunks of the book were about school life, (educating the boys and girls separately would have been pretty archaic in the 1970s), their friends and the games they played.....and there were so many different names they became a bit of a blur! This book made pleasant enough reading - but it didn't stand out as anything special. I shan't be reading her other book, Bedpans and Bobbysocks, which records her mother's time nursing in the USA - I learned so much about that trip in this book, it felt like advertising!
A pleasant memoir of life as a vicar's daughter in Ashington in the 70's when it was still " the biggest pit village ". She tells of the comings and goings of vicarage life and of her efforts to fit in at a school where every other child had a father who worked in the pit.
I loved this book - however, you need to know that Barbara and I have been friends for as long as we both can remember - in the 1970s our Dad's were both Church of England priests in neighbouring parishes, our families went on holiday together and we remain friends today. For me this is a trip down memory lane, evoking nostalgic memories of my early childhood in the Northumbrian countryside. It paints a picture of very different world, an old fashioned world, which simply doesn't exist any more due to extensive social and historic change in the intervening years. This was pre-Margaret Thatcher, the closing of the coal mines and resulting devastation of pit villages and their communities. I even make a couple of appearances in Barbara's narrative!
Connected with the setting and dialect. Plenty of the words and sayings are things which I have definitely used or heard in my life.
Unfortunately there was absolutely no story arc or character development to keep you reading. A framing style such as a different diary entries could have helped with the progression and timeline.
A refreshing story of a young woman's years growing up in a "foreign" part of England. I learned something of the Geordies and the miners' lives, as well as how life plays out in that particular area of England with a father who takes on the pulpit as the family takes on the whole "village".
This memoir of life as a vicar's daughter in North East England, was full of anecdotes, perfect for listening to on the road. Although I found the audio narration a bit twee, it kept me entertained for many a mile.
Even though I've never lived in a vicarage, nor in the north of England, I could relate to the era the memoir was set in, and it often reminded me of my own childhood. I clearly remember the miners' strike and doing my homework by candle-light during the three day week.
It could have been overly religious, but the author's father seemed to be more of a social worker than an evangelist. People would turn up at any time of the day and always be welcomed in for a cup of tea. The vicarage gardens sounded like a childrens' wonderland and quite a bit of the story was acted out under this back-drop.