Allsorts
Strange things, memories. I have a good memory and I rely on it rather too much, I know.
Of course, many of my memories are of important events - weddings, funerals, or other big family occasions - that kind of thing. But out of the mass of memories, sometimes there's one that I would not, perhaps, expect to have stuck - - and yet it has.
Walking with the Communist, me very small, in what seems to me now, thinking about it, to be an industrial wasteland somewhere in Leeds. Patches of rather dried-up grass with broken bits of brick buildings on them. The Communist was wearing a long coat. I was holding his hand. I don't remember why we were there. My mother wasn't with us, and that was unusual - perhaps that's why I remember it.
We spotted a sweet shop - one of those dark, old-fashioned ones with lots of bottles and jars in the window. We saw a box of liquorice allsorts, always one of the Communist's favourites, and I liked them too, so we headed towards the shop.
The Communist always had a song for every occasion and so he started singing to me: a song that he'd learned from his father.
Pop, pop, poppity pop, in the popular Poplar lollipop shop:
The population round about, they all pop in and they all pop out
Poppy's the name of the girl in the shop, who sells the ginger pop, so -
Pop in and see pretty Poppy one day in the popular Poplar lollipop shop.
We went into the shop. A conversation followed that I couldn't entirely follow and then the Communist explained to me that they didn't actually have any liquorice allsorts in the shop. The box in the window was only for show - it was empty and they had run out.
I think we bought some other sweets but I can't remember what they were.
I wasn't particularly disappointed about the lack of liquorice allsorts. I was, however, very, very puzzled that a shop might have an empty box in the window and none of its expected contents in the shop.
Off we went, heading for wherever we were heading, nearly fifty years ago, still singing:
Pop, pop, poppity pop - -
"This is a very strange world I'm in," I thought.
Of course, many of my memories are of important events - weddings, funerals, or other big family occasions - that kind of thing. But out of the mass of memories, sometimes there's one that I would not, perhaps, expect to have stuck - - and yet it has.
Walking with the Communist, me very small, in what seems to me now, thinking about it, to be an industrial wasteland somewhere in Leeds. Patches of rather dried-up grass with broken bits of brick buildings on them. The Communist was wearing a long coat. I was holding his hand. I don't remember why we were there. My mother wasn't with us, and that was unusual - perhaps that's why I remember it.
We spotted a sweet shop - one of those dark, old-fashioned ones with lots of bottles and jars in the window. We saw a box of liquorice allsorts, always one of the Communist's favourites, and I liked them too, so we headed towards the shop.
The Communist always had a song for every occasion and so he started singing to me: a song that he'd learned from his father.
Pop, pop, poppity pop, in the popular Poplar lollipop shop:
The population round about, they all pop in and they all pop out
Poppy's the name of the girl in the shop, who sells the ginger pop, so -
Pop in and see pretty Poppy one day in the popular Poplar lollipop shop.
We went into the shop. A conversation followed that I couldn't entirely follow and then the Communist explained to me that they didn't actually have any liquorice allsorts in the shop. The box in the window was only for show - it was empty and they had run out.
I think we bought some other sweets but I can't remember what they were.
I wasn't particularly disappointed about the lack of liquorice allsorts. I was, however, very, very puzzled that a shop might have an empty box in the window and none of its expected contents in the shop.
Off we went, heading for wherever we were heading, nearly fifty years ago, still singing:
Pop, pop, poppity pop - -
"This is a very strange world I'm in," I thought.
posted by Daphne at 1:04 pm
2 Comments:
It IS a funny old world, and it just got a tiny bit funnier!
You see, when I was a child, I thought the exact opposite. I thought ALL the stuff in the window of the sweet shop was fake - just empty boxes and plastic sweets!
One day we were doing a project at school and we were asked to bring in some empty sweet boxes. I didn't have any. So I asked my Mum to take me into a sweet shop so I could see if they had any empty boxes spare that I could have. She didn't think it likely (and now I know why ...) but she took me in and I asked, very politely, if they had any display boxes spare for my school project.
The man behind the counter looked at me a little oddly, but he reached into the window and pulled out a box and handed it to me with a smile. I thanked him and we went home.
Imagine my surprise when I got home and opened it to find it full of chocolates! Bless the man. What a kind heart he had.
Oh, Jay - lovely story, thank you!
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