The memories prompted most strongly by the film, though, came as a result of the scene where Oliver sings "Who will buy?" whilst street vendors call their wares. You rarely see those kind of street vendors any more, we go to farmers markets or supermarkets to get them, not the sort of thing Deliveroo bring to the door! I am lucky to be just the age where I can vividly recall the last days of traditional street vendor, which have probably gone forever.
Clearest, probably because it was daily, was the man with a horse, towing a cart full of enormous milk churns, calling, in a growly voice "Mi-ilk!" We would run outside to meet him, with an empty jug in one hand, and an apple core, or something similar, in the other, and feed a treat to the enormous seeming horse, while the old man filled our jugs from the shiny churns, using a very long ladle. His yard was just around the corner, some would often go and visit the horse, who was back and white, with a long, shaggy main and enormous feathered feet. If I close my eyes I can still smell the warm, dusty, yeasty aroma of him.
We had a branch of the famous MacFisheries in Catle Street(at the posh end!) but we also had a chap with a barrow visitvatvweekendsm cockles, whelks, mussels and other such pickled treats, we couldn't afford them, but if you hung around long enough, and didn't make a nuisance of yourself, he woukd usually take pity, and give you a handful to share! Then there were the gypsies, who would come door to door, at different seasons, with little hand made baskets of their gleanings from the hedgerows, or beautifully made clothes pins. In spring it would be bent green wood baskets of growing primroses, to plant in your garden, late summer would see plaited baskets of ripe brambles, then similar baskets of cob or hazel nuts. Finally, at Christmas they would bring bright berries holly, and little bunches of mistletoe, neatly tied and ready to pin over a door!
These regular callers from different worlds were part of the pattern of our lives, and part of the glue of them, too. Shared patterns, that helped us feel like a community, doing the same things, sharing the same pleasures, at the same time. Today, we rush around, all on our own personal missions, rarely sharing these little things, and it saddens me. I certainly wouldn't want to return to the grinding poverty of those days, but it would be nice to have more opportunity for earning small incomes like that, and forbmorecsharing of small, inexpensive little pleasures.
