Other articles by Ann Powell
All Aboard the Riverboat Georgina
Boat race? I was on coke duty
Riverside View with Ann Powell
First thing on a Saturday morning in the 1940s, I was sent out to queue for sausages at Holland's Pork Butchers in Market Street. I loathed queuing. I would close my eyes as I scuttled around the Corn Exchange and pray there would be no meat to make sausages that week and no sign of a queue.
I had to be there before the buses came in from the villages around 8am. The village women would elbow their way into the queue given half a chance. Sometimes it was difficult to stand your ground until nine o'clock when the shop opened.
I thought we had Holland's sausages because it was wartime rationing and they were off points (you did not have to have coupons for them). We did after all live next to a butcher and were registered with him. I discovered recently it was a family tradition. As soon as she was safe on a bicycle in the early 1920s, my mother was sent from Little Downham each Saturday on the same errand.
Published in the Ely Standard of January 2, 2003
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