The Yorkshire Witch

Nan's Farm-Inside Out

The Yorkshire WitchJPG31st October 2018 – Continuing our theme of Halloween the midweek word-prompt on our other site Weekly Prompts is Scary Costumes and was chosen by GC.

We discussed the Halloween Prompts and I planned my posts in advance, but I had other things on my mind, and I’m now thinking that my response to the Saturday photo challenge may have been better suited to today and vice versa.

On the other hand, it’s just a bit of fun, and this is Halloween, so, leaving costumes aside, what could be more suited to All Hallows Eve than my edited re-blog of last year’s Yorkshire Witch!

The Yorkshire Witch

Far away  in Yorkshire, in the land of puddings, hills, and dales, nestles a tiny little cottage where visitors cannot tell tales.

cottage and witch

A witch lives there who loves to cook, but always from her special book. 

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10 thoughts on “The Yorkshire Witch

      1. My mother took great delight in giving me a “thick ear”; that’s the trouble being mummys favourite you cop all the wallops. My brother never got one but then he was such a nice good type of boy.
        I really don’t have nice memories of my mother.

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      2. It was my dad who handed out the wallops in our house and usually to my brothers. As the only girl I was his favourite and got away with any minor misdemeanours, though I doubt there were many.
        We had a horrible great aunt who looked after us during the school holidays, slapping me (just me) appeared to be her favourite pastime.

        I’m sorry your memories of your mother are poor ones, such a shame. I can understand why a new country and a fresh start was so appealing. 🙂

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      3. At the 11 plus I won a place at a great grammar school. Barking Abbey (think Henry VIII) She would not let me take it.
        At 13 my headmaster called her to his office telling her he wanted me to take an exam as I’d be sure to pass and go to a great school instead of his secondary school. I took one look at her face and had to say I didn’t want to go, She told him I was big and old enough to make up my own mind, The next year I was one of 30 or so children selected to go on an exchange student group to France, She said no way ( not sure if it wasn’t because she’d have to put up with a French boy).
        At fourteen she dragged me up to the Labour Exchange in the East End and to get a job, from whence she dragged my around to Bishopsgate where I was given a job as a junior clerk in an Insurance company with a wage more than my elder brother. She told me I’d have to pay £1/5/0 out of my £2/10/0 wage for board and lodging.

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