Happy New Year and welcome to the first blog post on Magic of Stories. I was wondering what it would be, then found myself musing one morning. The dustbin men came round the other morning about 8.30 am, and it made me remember what it used to once be like. In Anglesey, where I nowContinue reading “Bin Day”
Simmondly is a small village in Glossop, Derbyshire, and in the early 1900s John Pedder, a retired councillor for Stretford Urban Council in Manchester, had a holiday cottage there. Their granddaughter, Molly, told me the story of Simmondly before she passed away in 2014 aged 100. ‘We had this great big trunk which we’d packContinue reading “Reflections of Simmondly”
When I came to live on this island, we had a dog. It was fun exploring, but sadly she was old and our adventures were limited. When she died, we were never getting another one. Eight months later, we thad Tilly, another Yorkshire terrier. This time a puppy, as Jodie was a rescue dog, comingContinue reading “Island Tales”
by Charles Henry Stott Charles Stott was my great, great-grandfather and he wrote a book which was passed through the family and finally ended up with me. Many of the articles it contains are fascinating because he is a social history buff and an observer of life in the late 1800s. The writing style isContinue reading “Various Subjects, an Old Book of Local History”
by Karen J Mossman Today, we lost wacky comedian Ken Dodd and I thought I would share a personal memory of him. In late seventies, early eighties, Ken Dodd came to the Police Club at Hough End in Manchester. He did his act, which had everyone in stitches. His jokes were always clean and soContinue reading “Ken Dodd, Comedian 1927 – 2018”
We are now home. In July we were at the City of London Orthopaedic Hospital, where poor persons of every nation who are afflicted with clubfoot, contortions, or distortions of the limbs, curvature of the spine, or other bodily deformities have attention.
by Karen J Mossman In 1973, I was a teenager and the most important things in my life were music and fashion. I lived in Withington in Manchester with my parents and siblings. A few of us, including my brother, John, would catch a bus through to Chorlton and then walk over to the StretfordContinue reading “The Sweetness of the Seventies”
For the weeks preceding the day of the move all I wanted to do was go to bed because it couldn’t come quick enough. When April 1st finally arrived, I felt I had stopped rushing forward and instead it was rushing towards me. We’d moved out of our house the day before, which was theContinue reading “The Day of the Move”
We received an invitation from the board of management of Henshaw’s Blind Asylum, which most people who reside in Oldham know it is situated at Old Trafford, to the annual distribution of prizes by Oliver HEYWOOD Esq., J.P., the High Sheriff of Lancashire.
We have had a new restaurant open near where I live in Stretford, Manchester and it’s right on the main road opposite the shopping mall. Prime position for passing motorists and shoppers. It came in kit form and they had it built and opened within a few short weeks. I visited on the secondContinue reading “A New McDonalds”