Jaki Woolnough's Family Tree

One of my earliest memories is the smell of the mint in Johnny McGarry's garden. I was about 3 years old when we visited the McGarry household, which consisted of an old man with white hair and his mother, white haired and rosy cheeked, propped up with pillows, in bed. When I say we, I mean my Grandma and me. I was her constant companion before I started school, and we walked miles together. On that occasion investigating the garden I found a blue flower like a milkmaid and little red button daises. That must have been the beginning of me love of gardens and flowers. I have dreamt about, but never had, a nice garden. Sometimes we got a house with a garden, but by the time we got it put into shape we had been transferred and were on the move again. We this time means my family later in life , which is another story.

I have been blessed with a very good sense of smell, perhaps a mixed blessing, but many of my early memories seem to be associated with smells. I was about 3 years old when we got new neighbours. Always inquisitive I leaned over the front step to be met by an overpowering smell of new furniture. The people were just setting up a new home and their children are still living in that house. I must have spent most of my time sitting on door steps, because I can still remember the smell of freshly washed and scoured steps. Then of course I became familiar with the smell of clover, making daisy chains on the green outside our door. Another vivid 'smell memory' is the one that I associate with school. It was a very clean smell, disinfectant and brown soaps, which met you at the door, especially at the beginning of a new term - also stewed tea and cheese sandwiches.

Games:-

One generally associates games with toys. Our toys were very few, we made the material around us fit into our game, or made our game fit the material. There were a number of partly demolished houses near. To us they were the old buildings'. the low walls that were left were the shop counters. On these we would spread our goods - bits of china for sweets, brown earthenware for toffee. We made scales by balancing a slate and bought and sold for hours. The fish shop was supplied with an old tin full of mud, in which dock leaves were immersed. I have a vague memory of a couple carrying a baskets from door to door selling fried fish. I suppose these would be reheated. There was no fish and chip shop in the village. A very popular game was 'Block or Hide and Seek'. The terrace and the old buildings offered lots of nooks and crannies, we never seemed to tire of this game, or the other version popular with the older children known as 'fox off' or 'kick the tin'. On winter evenings, when the gas lamp was lit, we gathered in the triangle of light and played 'Turnips & Carrots', 'Hopscotch' and 'Marbles', whips and tops, bowling a hoop and buttony were the usual pastimes. For the last, we hoarded a tin of buttons and from a given point, one had to get a button into a square drawn on the pavement, similar to the game of tiddlywinks. Wooden dolls were the fashion, with home made clothes, but many children dressed up a peg, or had one made from rags. A body stuffed with a painted face. Babies amused themselves with pegs and baking tins. My little sister, that died a fortnight after her 1st birthday, had learned to walk holding the bottom drawer and had dropped in a spoon, a peg and a part of a ginger snap. They were there for quite a long time. Mother wouldn't have them moved. I can only remember two toys. A doll which I got at Christmas when I was six and a woven straw pram when I was seven. The first world war started soon after that, so perhaps that explains the scarcity.

Grandma Grimley

She brought me into the world when the century was six years old. It was the first day of February and (they told me later) it was fine and sunny, so she popped me under her cape and took me to be christened. On the way she remembered it was her sister's birthday, so Elizabeth was added to the chosen Mary. In those days most catholic families named the first girl after our lady. I couldn't have two better patrons, the Blessed Virgin and her cousin. Those days were peaceful as the family numbered 3 when I was 3 years old, and with so many relatives about life was interesting. There was a green to play on, plenty of dirt to make into pies, and I had not yet become aware of my father's weakness, which was a cause of so much unhappiness for us all - may he rest in peace, he had a very hard childhood and youth and God will have judged him. My earliest memory of him is being rocked in his arms as he sang the Benediction hymn.

He was a good singer, but I'm sorry to say it earned him some of the drink that he couldn't give up. When we were older, we often listened at the pub window, to hear of what he was singing - apart from drink he was a nice man, with a great sense of humour. I have wandered from the point - to get back to grandma - perhaps I remember her so well because she had time to listen to us and liked to take me with her on her various expeditions. Most people, in those days kept pigs - when they were ready for sale (some were kept for pets) they were sold to the store (Co-op) and someone had to go to Coxhoe to see them weighed. I was Grandmas companion on these occasions. We carried a stone tied in the corner of a hanky, in case anyone attacked us - we carried the money back. It was a 3 mile journey and a lonely road. When the business was over we went visiting - you had to have refreshments in each house and one had a small sweet shop - then we walked back in the dark. There was no means of transport unless one hired a trap. The train ran from Trimdon Colliery which was a mile away from the village.

Grandma had been well educated which was unusual in those days, the head teacher of the small school she attended as a child, had sent her to St. Clares Abbey at Darlington - she was a Miss Tasker and was living in Coxhoe, so she was included in our visiting. Grandma was a good housekeeper and a great cook. I have never tasted rice pudding like hers. She helped many and brought over a hundred babies into the world, in this way she saved mothers the expense of a doctor and often carried gruel etc. to them when they were in bed. If we were sick, word had to be taken to her immediately - she would hurry over with some lusarry covered with her white apron - her aprons were made of a material called 'Holland' and were always very white. at that time she had 2 sons working at the pit and this involved a lot of dirt and work. they came home black - the clothes had to be beaten against the wall outside and the bath tin half filled with hot water for each worker. Each house had a boiler attached to the fireplace which had to be filled with water from a tap in the village street. I earned my first money when I was seven carrying Miss Howley's water from the tap, each evening, usually about 6 pails full and I was paid 4 pence per week. That was my first regular money - I went with the tatie pickers when I was 5 years old, worked until dinner time and earned 6d - which was a regular wage. After being initiated, I went out every year after that, the schools had a week holiday for this purpose and we handed over our earnings to the exchequer. My water carrying money was also handed over. We had moved when I was seven to a house not so near the main road, as mother was worried about the 'toddler' - we always had a baby until I was 20. She was afraid of the traffic, the horses pulling grocery carts etc. were a menace - little did she know what was to come.

I have been rambling again. I must tell you about the school at Wingate that Grandma went to - she was Mary Unsworth then. Her parents had come from Ashton-In-Makerfield, in Lancashire when Wingate pit was sunk. The managers son fell from the bucket that was being used to descend. Great Granda went down to bring his body up. there were quite a few Catholics among the new settlers. Lancashire had kept the faith better than most. Great Granda and another man asked for a colliery house to start a school, he gave them 2 houses and they paid the teachers themselves. Sometimes there wasn't cash to pay them. I have heard mother say that some of those houses had a well in the middle of the floor and I can remember the ladder they had to climb to the bedroom, two rooms, one up & one down. the colliery houses built later at Trimdon Grange were much bigger, four & five rooms. Anyone with a sitting room when we were young, were very posh.

Grandma was rather stern and straight laced, but still kindly and human. I would have liked to have been like her, but I'm afraid I have not her strength of character. She died just before Terry was born (when I was living in Nottingham), aged 79, but somehow, I felt she was near, especially when I went through the difficult experience for the first time - it was a case of long drawn out agony and then forceps - but the local woman who nursed me, was a proper actress - she kept me amused, and I soon forgot the pain.

Funerals

Life when I was a child was peaceful, other than newspapers, we had very little contact with the outside world. Weddings and funerals provided the main excitement, but somehow I always found the funerals fascinating. There was a certain ritual to be observed when death was imminent, the helpers were ready - often they had been helping with the patient. Two women were asked to take charge. the mother of the household (if she was not the corpse) was not allowed to do anything but receive visitors (they had a set piece 'I am sorry for your trouble') . the helpers had white pinafores (broderie anglais) with straps and frills. they were kept especially for these occasions. Hams were boiled, pease pudding made and lots of cakes made by neighbours, as in those days you couldn't buy bread or cakes. the household had to be fitted out with all black - hankies with black borders - note paper and envelopes in mourning too - black caps if you were not classy enough to wear a bowler. Even the smallest children were put into black - only the babies escaped. Grandma often talked about this excessive mourning, she knew that lots of people went into debt to keep right with the public. if you dared to wear a colour, other than mauve, before the year was up, you were talked about. It was all wrong. Now for the ritual - usually, the evening before the burial - two men called at each door (one each side of village) knocked and opened and said 'your presence is requested at the funeral of Mrs Robinson tomorrow. Lift at 2, bury at half past'. The door was then closed. These two men stood outside the cemetery gates as the mourners came out and requested each one to go back for tea (& whisky).

If a child was buried, two children walk at the front of the funeral - if a young man, two young women - a young woman, two youths. As children we watched all the comings and goings - the food spread was a natural development, as many of the mourners came quite a distance and it became quite a social affair, naturally, as relatives very often met only at weddings and funerals. If the deceased was killed at the pit, the brass band played the death march as they entered the cemetery and then a lively tune as they came out. Sadly these deaths were only too common, we dreaded to see the ambulance enter the village. Some children stood around until they got in to eat the remnants of the feast - we were told to keep away but I longed to be in on it.

What a difference between then and now, but I notice that human nature doesn't change all that much - people still like a good natter when they meet at a funeral, especially if the deceased was old - I heard one son say 'A happy releasement for us' I'm glad the wearing of black is no longer the custom. It means nothing - most real grief is hidden.

Weddings were much the same, except the provision of more liquor and a wedding cake. The celebration was in the house, anyone who could sing was roped in and a good time was had by all. I once got a shilling (a lot in those days) to carry a chamber pot to the brides home - they had no cars to carry wedding presents. Another time I was a child bridesmaid in white & helped to throw pennies & half pennies out to the children waiting outside the church - if nothing was thrown, they would shout 'shabby Wedding'. One sadistic old woman heated the pennies on a shovel over the fire & threw them from the door - she must not have wanted her daughter to marry.

School

It is sixty five years since I started school. When I think of the fantastic changes in the system, since then I wonder how it is that I really enjoyed school. To begin with I enjoyed the walk to school ( about a mile), there was so much to see - I could tell you now where there was a bush of specially deep pink wild roses, dog daisies and cowslips had their special place & meadow sweet and marsh marigolds another. We examined and climbed each tree, jumped the beck and picked berries. When I was small, mother said I came in with stories of strange things I had seen - a little red man, or jinni cutty throat- what the children miss riding in the school bus.

We had a very stern deaf old teacher in the infant school - I was scared of her and her stick - if you wanted to go to the toilet (leave the room) you must have a slap first - needless to say there were many pools, of course they were earth closets - but so were the household conveniences.

I learnt to read quickly and can remember standing in a semi-circle waiting for a child to master 'Kate at the gate' & feeling very bored.

We had a slate and a squeaky pencil and when the lesson was accomplished, cleaned up with a spit and a rag, which we kept in a knicker leg. When I think of our 'hard work' compared with the lovely interesting material provided for the present day children, I am amazed that we developed any artistic qualities. there was no encouragement for self expression - other that a dirty bit of plastecine - we did a little paper cutting, but exactly what the teacher wanted - another occupation which perhaps developed patience was unpicking thread, scraps of coloured bunting - I suppose this was used to stuff cushions.

When we were seven, we descended the steps to the big school. I enjoyed Standard 1. Aunt Lizzy was our teacher & she had unorthodox methods of teaching - she illustrated her stories & gave us a love of nature. She once took a class for a nature ramble and they were hours late coming back.

She was a rebel and didn't fit in with the comformative type of those days. After Std.1 I began to enjoy the challenge of work and in spite of the canning and strictness, really enjoyed school. We were late for school when Hartlepool was bombarded by the German Warships (1914 war) and were caned for being late. Food was very scarce at this time, but we were not so bad, as we had goat, pigs, hens and garden for veg's. We always had home cured bacon on hand. there was awful poverty in the towns in those days - children running barefoot. with the same money or even less the country people contrived better. Mother often sewed all night when she had 5 girls to 'rig out' for Easter or Whit. she often said her sewing machine got the money for my college fees.

Back to school - I don't remember much about the classes between Std.1 & 5 - but always enjoyed arithmetic and drawing, but we learnt very little grammar & this proved to be a big drawback when several of us went to the Convent at West Hartlepool. Mother was very keen on education and was determined that the girls would be able to support themselves and need not marry - what a hope!

She was saving every penny to pay my fees for St. Joseph's Convent at Hartlepool. I often grumble at the labour party, but I must admit, the new labour county council made things easier for us, by paying for our train passes. Later the nuns gave me a scholarship, which was a great help - at this time there were seven children in the house and the country was suffering from after war depression (1919). During my last years at Trimdon School, I had a paper job. With my brother Owen, who was 9, we went each morning to Trimdon Station to meet the 7.45 train - 2 miles there and 2 back. Sorted & delivered papers, snatched a bite & then ran to school (another mile), I don't think it did us any harm., I don't remember any hardship. When times were hard we were never hungry - the food was plain but good, there was always a good fire & a warm bed. We had one stone hot water bottle, but the hot oven shelf, wrapped in an old piece of sheeting, warmed several feet. Life was a scramble at times - we learnt how to look after ourselves, but we had love & security - even if our father drank too much. It was a weakness he almost overcame - but it is a curse. The girls that mother thought might not marry all found good men with no great liking for liquor and were hitched up as soon as possible. Unfortunately for me, I had to wait 6 years. I don't as a rule regret - but a 6 year engagement is too long by far. Our marriage was cut short & I think of those wasted years. Money was so short, that we both had to help at home.

I started at the 'Covent' when I was 13, we country girls were mostly daughters of miners - this was the breakthrough, up to this pupils were mostly children of pit managers and professional people. During the first week a special effort was made inducing us to say 'mather' instead of 'muther' , we soon caught on. I enjoyed those days too, my greatest trouble was homework - I couldn't get a quiet spot until everyone had gone to bed - I often worked until the early hours. We took Senior Oxford when I was 16 & I got 6 credits which enabled me to apply for Teachers Training College. We were all quite innocent, it was a much nicer world without all this sex education.

Dancing was the joy of our lives 6d was the usual charge or 4/6 for the big dances. Old Johnny Thubron played his melodeon, with someone at the piano and we could dance until 6am - & never miss one dance. The old fashioned set dances - Lancers, Caledonians - De Alberts were the favourites and we had an M.C to direct the movements - one blew his whistle & shouted 'Hoy your orange peel under the seats - please' we were allowed to go to dances as long as we came home in a crowd - needless to say, a few strayed.

Grandma Molloy

Father's mother was twice married, John Hoban, from Lavallinrce, Mayo in Ireland was killed at Garmondsway Quarry near Trimdon - He was 24 & my father - the oldest was 3. Aunt Maggie was born after his death - Grandma had lost 3 brothers in Trimdon Grange Pit explosion - another was killed later. Grandma was allowed 1/6, I don't know whether that was for one child or two. she took the baby with her when she worked in the fields & left the other 2 with friends. She sometimes had to eat a raw turnip to bring milk for the baby, who was to be our Aunt Maggie. She had no children and turned her maternal instincts in our direction. she lived near & we were welcome in her house any time. This was unusual as she was house proud & spotlessly clean - she was a great cook & needless to say there were lots of spoilt cakes etc. to use up, that was her excuse when she brought a plate. She was always there to help - but mother was independent & if financial help was given, it was always paid back.

Grandma lived to be 90, in spite of her hard life - she married again & had 10 more children - the last 2 died soon after birth. She sang Gaelic songs & was very placid - perhaps accepting her misfortunes was the secret of her long life.

The War 1914 - 18.

I remember the day it started - we went to the seaside & on the way called at a friends house at Heseldan. The father was putting on his uniform, he must have been on reserve. Before the end of it all, this family was broken up, father killed, mother dead with Spanish flu & children sent to various relatives. Most of the miners were reserved for the production of coal. Most of those we knew, who went, did not return or were dead soon after. I was not old enough to notice much about battles etc., but remember the dreadful food we got with ration books - we had our own cured bacon & hens eggs, so we were not too bad. The Christmas day, the only cake mother could produce was plain cake - pastry - rationing was a new experience fortunately it helped when the next war came. We got stinking cheese, rhubarb, jam, dark bread by the yard, margarine like truck grease but plenty of fresh air. I saw a zeppelin brought down at Hartlepool & everyone crowded into our house to be among the children when 'lights out' was called. The rosary went something like this. Hail Mary, full of grace - John have you got your stockings on. There were some sights when eventually the lights went on - we had all grabbed clothes in the dark & put anything on that was warm. A large field at the top of West Lane became an aerodrome & the first airmen came - to the delight of the older girls. When the end came I was sent to verify the all important telegram in the PO. at Deaf Hill & when I returned put up a flag on the school chimney. It was after the war we had our first taste of poverty. Mines were working often only 3 days in the week, the family was bigger (8). The house furnishings became shabby & could not be replaced. Mother must have had an awful struggle as father still expected his pocket money. In spite of all this she continued to pay the insurance that was to be drawn when I was ready for college. I can't imagine anyone being asked 'What would you like to do?' It was chosen for you and then it was up to you to make the best of it - which most young people did. For girls there was 'service' 5/- a week & your food, not always plentiful, hours 12 a day, sometimes more & half a day off per week - no wonder domestic servants became scarce - I reckon that if one human being (apart from sick & aged) expects another to wait on them - they should pay well. Some girls went for shop work - very long hours and poor pay - a few went for nursing, also badly paid & they were lucky if they got into Winterton to nurse mental patients. Boys had very little choice - the mines or trades like brick laying or joinery.

I was therefore lucky to be able to go to college, my clothes were mostly home-made & I had very little pocket money - but you never miss what you have never had & I came home to start teaching in the middle of the 1926 strike - when I found a community living in great poverty, but men enjoying for once, hours of sunshine. It was a glorious summer - the young men took tents to the seaside - bathed and sat in the sun & lived on chips & kippers cooked over driftwood fires. the strike lasted for 6 months & the men went back to worse conditions. Those men were a different breed to the present day miners. They were working under dreadful conditions, but were noted for their humour & comradeship. Most were mark? or crippled, before this working days were done & many killed. when I see ancestral homes I often wonder who paid for them.

Grandda Grimley had come from Ireland (Armagh) soon after the potato famine. I understand that their name was really O'Gorman but on account of some serious happening they needed to change it when they left their native land. Grandda was a character - he always looked very old to me - one always associated him with goats - he had a half dozen which he took to graze on the roadside every morning & brought home at night. He had a long overcoat which was stiff with dirt & stank of his Billy goat & as this goat & Grandda both had long beards & smelled the same - they just went together. The coat was not allowed in the house. Grandma taught him to read & he struggled through the newspaper (we had to keep quiet). She also taught him to sign his name - when he signed the paper for his pension - he could only get Grim- on the paper, but he just continued & wrote the -ley on the table. I think there was a mad streak in this branch of the family - some of them suffered with delusions of grandeur. Aunt Lizzie was tainted with it. I must tell you about her cycling days - she would start out for Wakefield in Yorkshire & at night would find a nice hay stack & kip down. Conditions were so different, one scarcely ever met offensive people. As children we wandered around the fields & came to no harm. Once when Aunt Lizzie had been to the bank at Sedgefield to collect the teachers pay (for the whole school) she had a puncture & stopped to mend it. She landed back at the school - no bag. I'll bet she raced back to the gatepost. It was still there. She was 84 when she died & when I think of her death I feel horror at the heartlessness of the 'big' hospitals of today. A cousin went to visit her & found she was in a coma - the young assistant nurse had not recognised this & yet she was removed to another hospital to die. They didn't want too many deaths recorded in that hospital - may she rest in peace - She was a real character.

More Memories

November 1st All Saints Day 1976.

When I wrote my last 'memories' I was looking at life from a different angle. So often I have to say to myself 'It doesn't matter to me now' I don't feel as though I'm included in the human race any longer, but we are interested in the past, not the present or the future. The sentence of death was no great shock to me, I had been feeling ill for a long time and feel quite reconciled. I have some marvellous friends here & many waiting on the other side. Think of me on All Saints Day.

Nicknames

Trimdon was a village peopled by quarrymen who were mostly Irishmen from the West of Ireland. Many of them came from the same village over there & had the same name Roche or Toach. To differentiate, they were given nicknames. For instance there was 'gint' Knacky - Tommy (knock kneed) Flash Mick, Johnny Sally, white Knob, Jean. Many people had a 'lucky jim' and 'Ducks' Another man answered to 'Seldom' which proved to come from the fact that he seldom worked. 'Killy Cock Joe' so called because he killed the cock that wouldn't lay.

I can't remember where I finished in my last epistle. If I have written about my college days you must forgive me.

My mother's ambition was realised when I was accepted for 2 years at Endoleigh, a training college in Hull. I had struggled through my Senior Oxford among a crowd of noisy children when one could hardly get a chair to sit on. I generally did my homework when everyone had gone to bed. Anyway I got the 6 credits required & began collecting the required outfit. How strict rules were in those days. the uniform was brown - costume (suit) dress, blazers, gym tunic and a white dress for feast days. Mother made most of them & I hadn't learnt to criticise, so I went off with them quite happily. I was 18 & had been to Newcastle once, but we went in a train to school, so I was not totally inexperienced. My trunk went in advance. Grandma gave me some money to get a meal on the train - she knew more about those things than I did. With my heavy suitcase, a hat trimmed with an orange feather (by myself) and a lot of advice - I set off. I landed early afternoon and stood wondering & a bit scared in the main street outside the station. Perhaps I asked someone's advice, but decided against a tram as I wouldn't know where to get off, I had never been on one - real country lass. I wish someone had told me about taxi's - I walked 3 miles with my case before I found the college. The 2 years spent in Endsleigh were happy - we were treated like children & we were as innocent as children - Rules - up at 6.45. Mass & breakfast. Charge duty - sweeping - dusting etc. & we kept our own cubicle clean. The only help used was in the kitchen & laundry & the girls were from an orphanage. They seemed happy enough. Bedtime 8.30 & lights out - one could read in summer. No speaking after 8.30. I never went into town as I was very limited for pocket money.

1924 - 26 was a time of depression, in fact the miners strike was the summer I came home to a time of great want. It was a wonderful summer & the young miners who had spent most of their lives in the bowels of the earth, took tents & crowded to the beaches. They lived on chips & corned beef pies - then finally returned to conditions worse than when the strike began. When I finished at college I was lucky to get a job at Ushaw Moor, many didn't get work. I worked that last week in August & got �3, the first money in the house for mother, other than that father had earned helping farmers. My brother dug for coal in the old heaps beside the pit & sold it to help. The live stock we had and the gardens helped to feed the bairns & grandma was always there with a helping hand. Aunt Lizzie was teaching, they were in the money. People had much more respect for teachers in those days.

I must write about the 'depression' that followed the '26 strike, but first a memory that can always bring a smile. There were two well known beggars who visited us regularly. One was the brother of a local shop keeper, Mr Purvis. In those days beggars were quite a common sight - the gentleman of the road told each other where the pickings were good - they had signs. Grandma had on special nights never turned one away. Our two locals has their favourite hymns - 'Count your many Blessings' & 'God of mercy & Compassion' for the Catholics, but the amusing part of the performance was the two or three dance steps every few yards. An organ grinder would come every so often.

I went to the pictures for the first time when I was seven & saw an aeroplane that had been forced to land about the same time. We ran miles to see it, everyone in the village was there gazing at the wonderful bird. Cars began to appear about the same time - of course deep in the country we were behind hand. The world was changing.

The Depression

It is fifty years since the Jarrow March - plenty has been said about that & even sung about it.

To begin my teaching career I was very shabby with only a worn uniform. Aunt Maggie lent me money to get a coat & with 2/6 worth of gingham mother made me a dress - but everyone was hard up, one never noticed shabbiness. After the strike wages were less and often the pit was not working. A buzzer blew to announce this unhappy fact & the people knew economy was the order of the day. 3d of bacon scraps with sliced potatoes, one egg between two, marg on one slice of bread & jam on the other. Girls who were in service were sometimes let off soon before dinner - it was a tragedy - there wasn't anything for them when they got home. My wages were a great help. Mother was trying to keep 3 girls at the convent but it eventually became too much, and Martha & Peggy had to go to work, one for 5/- a week in service (a butcher) & the other in a shop where every oz of butter etc had to be accounted for. Young girls had to carry sacks of sugar & get an extra .5d anywhere they could to satisfy the 'chain' owners. the 'means test' at this time was a misery & a scandal to the country. Lots of lads got a bed in someone else's house so that their paltry wage could not be taken off the fathers dole. Our houses became shabby, floor coverings, curtains, bedclothes could not be replaced. My father did not have much idle time he was a good workman & when a pit was doing badly he moved to another. John & Owen both joined the army & lots of young people went south to find work. In spite of all this I enjoyed my first year teaching. I liked the work & the girl who stayed at the same 'lodge' as I did enjoyed the same things. Dancing was the favourite pastime - the local church dance & whilst was 6d every Monday & every few weeks there was one that went into the early hours of Saturday morning. We even danced until six in the morning on occasions. I loved dancing & met my life partner at a 6d do. I was 22 then but many years were to pass before we felt free to marry. By then we had gone up in the world & got a house with a sitting room - mother eventually bought it and satisfied a lifelong ambition.