It's all in the numbers.............

Do you have a special number?

This is mine 77


I lived in just two houses growing up in England...........well three if you include my grandma's flat where I spent my first few years along with my mother during WWII. There, we apparently scurried to the lower floor and hid under the stairs when the air raid sirens sounded........and stayed until the 'all clear'.

When my father came home from the Royal Air Force, we moved to the '40's version of modular housing, cute little cookie cutter homes, lining curving roads on an 'estate'. Built by the local government, using prisoner-of-war laborers, they provided much needed post-war housing. That house no longer stands, being replaced by newer, modern homes some years ago. The number of our house was 17.

We moved to the next house, just a 10 minute walk from No. 17, when I was 7. Our new bungalow was (is) number 77. My fondest memories are part and parcel of that little brick bungalow. Sold some years back following my mum's death, I still stop by when on a trip home. To catch a glimpse of the brass numbers by the front door is to remember all that happened from age 7 to almost 19 when I emigrated to America. Fond memories all and brought close to my heart when I see the number 77.

Linen towels ~ old silver candlesticks ~ four Mason's Oak Shape antique plates (marked 'first designed in 1813') ~ brass number 77. All from Sleepy Poet Antique Mall, Charlotte, NC

At the Sleepy Poet I found this brass number. It was beaming out at me from all the treasures in Janna's 'Artsy Fartsy' booth and I had to have it...........after all it's MY number.