Some South Woodford scribbles from DD, our resident diarist and observer of all things local. Illustrated by Evelyn Rowland
I can’t remember, or even imagine, a time when I didn’t love words. Perhaps some of you were at the ‘Red School’ when I was, with the formidable Miss Read ruling the roost. If so, you may remember listening to How Things Began on the radio in the final year. We had to turn our notes (starting from Neanderthal Man in the Palaeolithic Era) into a complete book. I still have mine. Writing letters has never seemed like a chore to me. My younger brother, Michael, moved abroad many years before the email revolution and we regularly filled those small, blue, lick-round-the-edge airmail forms with family news on each side of the four-thousand-mile divide. He also still writes and has several books to his name. But that’s quite enough chat.
I would like to say a big thank you to those of you who have written to me on my Gazette email address. Nothing warms my heart more than realising someone actually reads the stuff I write. Thoughts, comments, suggestions as to possible themes: all welcome. Your letters are like gifts, which brings me, by a somewhat convoluted route, to this issue’s theme: gifts.
“I’ve been in gifts for 25 years.” This was Sue speaking, one of the long-serving staff at Room 22 (directly opposite the approach road into Sainsbury’s). “I love this shop,” she continued. “Look outside: people rushing by, heading to the station, or the bus stop. Wondering if they’ve remembered everything they meant to include on their shopping list. Now look at those who have walked in here. You can’t help noticing it: they have slowed down, they are relaxing, they are winding down. I feel this myself when I arrive in the morning. A sense of contentment. There’s nothing not to like! Compare this with sitting at an office desk all day! I am handling lovely things. I have the opportunity to be creative, to think about the best way to display newly-arrived stock: William Morris porcelain, Gistella Graham tableware, special items for Mother’s Day or Valentine’s Day. Warm mohair scarves in bright unusual colours and designs, dresses, woollens.” “I didn’t know you sold clothes as well,” I managed to interrupt the enthusiastic flow. “Not many left just now. Sundresses, hats even; they disappeared fast.”
Another happy South Woodford shopkeeper is Olga. “I always longed to run my own business with lots of regular customers and high-quality goods. And what a joy when a corner shop became available!” (It’s at the junction of George Lane and Pulteney Road.) Olga is a balloon seller with long experience and a huge range of sizes, colours and shapes. But I quickly realised this was a mere fraction of the breadth of services she offers. She can plan and design and create in every detail the special party you have in mind, tailored individually to the occasion, balloons and much more. An anniversary? A birthday? An engagement? She is happy to visit the party venue, perhaps your sitting room, perhaps somewhere bigger, to measure up the space and provide you with a sketch of how the venue could look on the day. The shop has a really fun atmosphere. All sorts of party and gift ideas and paraphernalia fill the shelves around the walls. Olga was glad to chat: “I trained as a physiotherapist in Lithuania but jobs were hard to find.” “Was that because you were a woman?” “No, not really.” “Perhaps your heart wasn’t in it? You were dreaming of your corner shop and party plans?” Olga smiled. “I think there’s some truth in what you say. I suppose really I’m a bit of a softie. I admit it. Most of my patients in the hospital were severely disabled. I would go home with a broken heart. Often tears. Look at me now just recalling what it was like. Now I go home with a smile on my face and a spring in my step. What could be better than helping people to celebrate? And I do have lots of lovely regular customers!”
Located in the station forecourt is what must be the smallest shop in South Woodford. Proof positive that ‘good things come in small packages’. “A perfect gift for special people” it says above the window. I had always assumed that all the special gifts were necklaces, rings and brooches. I know better now. Just three years ago, this ‘boutique’ changed hands and here was Irem sitting behind the mini counter with fresh flowers and a welcoming smile as I stepped in. Irem is Turkish but has lived in the UK for over 20 years, is married to an Englishman and has a teenage daughter at a local school. Lucky daughter to be bilingual. Irem is, first and foremost, an artist: “Even when I’m cooking, I love arranging the food on the plate as an artist. And it’s the same when I lay the table. That too can be a work of art.” All this was delightfully evident in the shop. It was like a mini art gallery, with her own paintings displayed on the walls between the showcases of jewellery. “I have continued the tradition of the previous owner,” she told me. “I specialise in gemstones and silver. Absolutely fine for customers who find they are allergic to other metals.” Along with her paintings, Irem sells handcrafted gifts: unusual Turkish bags, small, beautifully carved olive wood boxes on which she has painted her unique designs. Even all the displays of her gemstones in all their different colours look like the work of an artist with a capital A.
I think it’s time to wrap this up. (Sorry! I couldn’t resist that.) There’s a cluster of birthdays coming up. Between us, we share six children and 12 grandchildren. Mostly, they prefer their gifts to be a surprise. But ever-thoughtful Sophie rang today with a helpful message: “I expect you may wish to know what I’d like for my birthday.”
To contact DD with your thoughts or feedback, email dd@swvg.co.uk
