Stromness

Flavour of the Week
'Every day of the week, when we were children, had its own unique flavour.'
     from Rockpools and Daffodils

In Rockpools, Islands and again in Hamnavoe, George describes a week in the life of a Stromness child, c1930, each day having its own character. 

Monday was dull, the beginning of the school week and washing day with it's day-long labour, heat, steam, smells of wet fabrics, with bleach, soapflakes and blue.  It was the day the Adventure comic magazine was published, but it couldn't have been one of his favourites as he made little of it.  His Monday highlight was having ham and eggs for tea. 

Tuesday George thought nondescript but had as its saving grace the arrival of The Wizard comic.  He waited with his two pennies outside Rae's shop after the Ola brought the post and the papers, waiting for the spell to be cast, and he was certainly enchanted by the world of comics. In the house were the smells of fire, and hot metal and linen as the previous days washing was ironed on the kitchen table.

Wednesday had a certain excitement being Mart Day, Stromness buzzing with busy-ness, farmers and their wives clinching deals and shopping.  Horses were on the streets as well as bikes and carts.  Farmers stood around at the Pier Head, smoking pipes, occasionally exchanging a few words.  

Thursday his spirits began to lift, heading towards the end of the week.  It was 'half-day', early closing for all the shops.  George describes a quietness about the town until the arrival of the Orcadian which people read standing there in the streets or sitting in their windows.  As he remembers it, it was the old folk who read the newspaper.  More relevant to him, Thursday was the day the Rover came out.  If he had managed to save any money, he could go to the pictures in the Town Hall to see Tom Mix and Felix the Cat – cost: fourpence. 

Friday was fragrant, he remembered in adulthood, evidence of his lingering delight from boyhood: freedom in the afternoon from the prison of school, the expectation of a glorious weekend.  Even if it didn't turn out quite as joyous as anticipated, Friday nevertheless had the flavour of all the best that could possibly be.  He put on his Life Boy uniform of blue jersey, blue stockings with white stripes, and a sailor cap.  In the church hall various activities awaited; netball and fretwork perhaps.  And for George, it was the greatest day: The Hotspur appeared, a boy's  paper full of school stories which he loved most of all.  

Part of the fragrance may have been due to Friday being his mother's cake-baking day.  She shared a fire with a neighbour to bake sponge cakes, shortbread and all light as air.  

Saturday was dependent on various external elements such as the weather.  He might read or play ludo, snakes-and-ladders or blow-football indoors if the weather was bad.  If fine, he might wander the hills behind Stromness, or row in a borrowed flattie from pier to pier along the harbour.  Football, fishing and fighting might take up part of the day.  Whatever the weather, he generally had a penny to spend, which involved much deliberation about how to get the best out of it.  Skipper was published on Saturdays; he described his feelings about that particular comic as tepid. 

Sunday was prescribed.  Most people had their best Sunday suits to wear to the kirk.  Mary, George's mother, always had a poke [paper bag] of sweeties to make the long sermon endurable.  

Sunday was a time for home made cakes for tea, but then the idyll was shattered as the prison house loomed again.  Those children who hadn't done their homework on Friday or Saturday now had to face the inevitable, settling down by lamplight in winter, after Sunday tea.