Eighty Heath Street was the house in Hampstead where my mother spent the first seven years of her life. (See ‘a farthing cone’) That was eighty seven years ago. On the 28th September we went back to see it. Yvette sat on the step where my mother used to sit to eat her ‘farthing cone’/ We noted the door into the dwelling was separate to the door into the shoe shop belonging to her grandmother, just as my mother had stated. I entered the shop (now a hair straightening salon) to say hello to the proprietors and explain why eight strangers were peering through the windows. At first I thought it was my nasal Aussie accent which made it difficult for them to understand me but then I realized they could speak very little English. However, one of them seemed to get the gist of what I was saying and I politely made my exit. Soon after he came outside and offered to take photo’s for us. I have to smile as I as I think about it now. No matter how much we like to re-visit the past and enjoy its nostalgic moments, we cannot live there, life moves on whether we like it or not.
Photo one shows the door into the residence on the left and the shop on the right. (With Shane standing in the doorway of what would have been the greengrocer and ice cream parlour.)
Photo two with us all lined up like ‘browns cows’ shows L-R Shane, Caitlin, Yvette, Brianna, Fiona and Doug and I