Years and years ago I was a weaver. I learned to weave at David Whiteheads in Rawtenstall. I actually liked the job very much....and had it not been for the company upping sticks and taking the business over to South Africa, I suspect I might still have been there.
When the place closed down, I got a job at the Enfield Manufacturing Company. The two jobs were as different as chalk and cheese. In Rawtenstall I had 16 automatic looms. I wove mattress ticking for Slumberland....and then I went onto some experimental stuff on a Sulzer shuttle-less loom......this material was absolutely gorgeous. I thought it was material for bridal gowns.......anyway, when I asked at the cloth looking dept what it was for, I got a bit of a shock. It was the lining material for top quality coffins!
The move to Enfield Maunfacturing Co was a shock to my system....they were lancashire looms....I had six of them...... and I was weaving twills and dobbies......It was boring and strange. I didn't have to worry very much though because shortly after taking up the job I found out I was pregnant.
I had had a very good relationship with all the workers on my shift in Rawtenstall....at the Enfield I knew nobody.......the workers all seemed to be older ladies....some looked too old to be working at all.
In a very short time one or two of the ladies had sussed out my 'condition'........and their attitude towards me changed in an instant.
They became very protective of me. They made sure that I wasn't lifting the heavy cloth rollers....and that there was always someone to put the weights on my beams at the back of the looms.......they were keen to bring me little tidbits to tempt my appetite......though in truth I never had a problem there ( it was hubby who had morning sickness, not me).
One particular lady almost adopted me. I was very grateful for her help and advice, as this was during the time that I was estranged from my own mother.
Connie never considered herself clever, (she used to tell me that she wished she had paid more attention at school.)...but believe me there was not much got past this lady. And she was a whizz with needles...both sewing and knitting.
We hadn't been married very long and we were still strapped for cash.......Connie showed me how to knit mittens and bootees(yes, children did still wear the hand knitted stuff back then). I couldn't sew for toffee.....Connie suggested that I didn't waste money buying maternity clothes. She said if I got a couple of remnants off the market she would make me a couple of pinafore dresses that would see me through that winter.
I bought three lengths of material and Connie, good as her word had me up to her house......measured me up and made me three lovely pinafore dresses....and yes they did see me to the end of my pregnancy.
She taught me how to do some very basic sewing....and eventually the pinafore dresses were cannibalised to make winter dresses for my daughter. Connie was like the mother I wished I had(at that time).
She had two daughters of her own....so it wasn't like I was an adopted child because she hadn't a family of her own. I always felt comfortable in the company of her family.
Connie followed my career when I went to be a nurse, she was always full of praise for me and encouraged me in everything that I did....she celebrated my successes and commiserated with me when I felt I had failed. She also made sure that any perceived failures were seen as lessons and opportunites....and would tell me to pick myself up and try again.
We didn't have what you would call regular contact once I qualified......she was never sure when I would be in...or if I would be in bed because I was on nights.......but we exchanged birthday and Christmas cards....and I used to see her in town frequently, she would give me a hug and tell me that I didn't look any different.
Connie liked to go out and about after she retired and sometimes she would wave and say ' I can't stop, I'm just off to catch the bus to Southport'....'gadding about' was what she called it.
Why am I telling you all this now........?
Well, I haven't seen Connie for about two years....and the cards have stopped coming.
Looking in the Telegraph last night I spotted the reason why......there was her obituary.
Night Night. God Bless Connie. R.I.P.
When the place closed down, I got a job at the Enfield Manufacturing Company. The two jobs were as different as chalk and cheese. In Rawtenstall I had 16 automatic looms. I wove mattress ticking for Slumberland....and then I went onto some experimental stuff on a Sulzer shuttle-less loom......this material was absolutely gorgeous. I thought it was material for bridal gowns.......anyway, when I asked at the cloth looking dept what it was for, I got a bit of a shock. It was the lining material for top quality coffins!
The move to Enfield Maunfacturing Co was a shock to my system....they were lancashire looms....I had six of them...... and I was weaving twills and dobbies......It was boring and strange. I didn't have to worry very much though because shortly after taking up the job I found out I was pregnant.
I had had a very good relationship with all the workers on my shift in Rawtenstall....at the Enfield I knew nobody.......the workers all seemed to be older ladies....some looked too old to be working at all.
In a very short time one or two of the ladies had sussed out my 'condition'........and their attitude towards me changed in an instant.
They became very protective of me. They made sure that I wasn't lifting the heavy cloth rollers....and that there was always someone to put the weights on my beams at the back of the looms.......they were keen to bring me little tidbits to tempt my appetite......though in truth I never had a problem there ( it was hubby who had morning sickness, not me).
One particular lady almost adopted me. I was very grateful for her help and advice, as this was during the time that I was estranged from my own mother.
Connie never considered herself clever, (she used to tell me that she wished she had paid more attention at school.)...but believe me there was not much got past this lady. And she was a whizz with needles...both sewing and knitting.
We hadn't been married very long and we were still strapped for cash.......Connie showed me how to knit mittens and bootees(yes, children did still wear the hand knitted stuff back then). I couldn't sew for toffee.....Connie suggested that I didn't waste money buying maternity clothes. She said if I got a couple of remnants off the market she would make me a couple of pinafore dresses that would see me through that winter.
I bought three lengths of material and Connie, good as her word had me up to her house......measured me up and made me three lovely pinafore dresses....and yes they did see me to the end of my pregnancy.
She taught me how to do some very basic sewing....and eventually the pinafore dresses were cannibalised to make winter dresses for my daughter. Connie was like the mother I wished I had(at that time).
She had two daughters of her own....so it wasn't like I was an adopted child because she hadn't a family of her own. I always felt comfortable in the company of her family.
Connie followed my career when I went to be a nurse, she was always full of praise for me and encouraged me in everything that I did....she celebrated my successes and commiserated with me when I felt I had failed. She also made sure that any perceived failures were seen as lessons and opportunites....and would tell me to pick myself up and try again.
We didn't have what you would call regular contact once I qualified......she was never sure when I would be in...or if I would be in bed because I was on nights.......but we exchanged birthday and Christmas cards....and I used to see her in town frequently, she would give me a hug and tell me that I didn't look any different.
Connie liked to go out and about after she retired and sometimes she would wave and say ' I can't stop, I'm just off to catch the bus to Southport'....'gadding about' was what she called it.
Why am I telling you all this now........?
Well, I haven't seen Connie for about two years....and the cards have stopped coming.
Looking in the Telegraph last night I spotted the reason why......there was her obituary.
Night Night. God Bless Connie. R.I.P.
