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Farming Memories
Phyllis Tulip (nee Duningham)
was born at the farm in 1925. She recalls that cattle were kept on the fields which were on the hill going down to Swalwell, behind what is now Spoor's Chapel. The cattle were taken from the farmyard into the slaughter house behind the adjoining butcher's shop (Turnbull's). Phyllis's childhood friend, Della Knott, (nee Gibbons) can remember going into the dairy at Glebe Farm to buy milk.
Front Street was little more than a cart track, motor vehicles being a rare sight. Phyllis and Della remember harvest time, when the hay was transported from the fields on Hay Bogies (flat wagons) pulled by horses. A pike of hay was hoisted onto the wagon by a chain, then was taken along Front Street to the farm to be made into stacks to provide winter fodder for the live stock. The two girls were allowed to ride on the back of the bogie in the place of honour, with several other local children running alongside trying to join them.
Potato Picking
"Discussing the price of potatoes in 1984, £2.50 for four stone, took me back down memory lane to the years 1919-23 when we had a week's holiday in the Autumn to help farmers to gather in their harvest.
All the local village farms such as Glebe, Grange, Windy-Hill, Wood-House, Southfields, Marshall-Lands, (all of which are now demolished), were first to recruit their temporary labour force. Those children who were left including me and wanting work, had to go to Riding Barns, at Fellside which was a long walk for an 8 o'clock start. We did not know what a tractor or a trailer was. We carried our own buckets, no plastic ones in those days; we also carried our own bait and a tea mash.
Old Ned's wage bill for approx 20 pickers would be around £1 a day.
Sometime later he would travel the village with horse and cart, selling and delivering potatoes 4/- a cwt 2/- for 4 stone.
Spud Bashing
Spud Bashing was not the preparation of mashing potatoes for the Sunday Dinner; but the cold, wet, back-breaking work of picking potatoes for the local farmer. I did it once in 1963 for the princely sum of 10 shillings a week. It was the worst job I had ever done in my life and was glad when the week was over!
Every morning, at 7.00 armed with enamel buckets and a couple of jam sandwiches. We would be taken up the Lonnen to one of the potato fields on Smith's farm where we spent all day bent over collecting the potatoes churned up by whatever the appliance was called which did the job. Half an hour for a jam sandwich and a cup of tea and we were back at it until 5.30 in the evening. The 10 bob was spent at the Blaydon Pavilion at the end of the week and I realised the true meaning of slave labour. Apparently, and incredibly, similar work still exists in the UK!!!
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