A herring around the neck!

Violet Simpson as a child (above), and her Gran (far left), who had a cure for everything!
Violet Simpson as a child (above), and her Gran (far left), who had a cure for everything!

In these days of modem medicine, I often look back in awe at the remedies of old.

My Gran, who lived with us, was a font of wisdom, with a cure for everything, and although her ‘old folk remedies’ were beyond belief, they had a grain of wisdom in them.

In 1936, when I was about ten, my mother was ill with a terribly sore throat, so Gran took over, deciding that oil was needed. Dad, meanwhile, had gone to fetch the lady doctor unbeknown to Gran. The doctor arrived and went into the bedroom, where she found Mum tucked up in bed with a raw herring, sliced up the middle with its head tied to its tail, around her neck.

I was outside the door when I heard what sounded like a strangled squeak. Then out came the
doctor, arm extended, holding a very sad-looking herring between thumb and finger and telling poor Gran in no uncertain tone that herrings were for eating, not wearing!

Gran often told me about when her eldest son was about six and had a terrible cough. She couldn’t afford a doctor so she rubbed his chest and back with goose fat, rolled him in brown paper, tied it around him and put him to bed -but, as she proudly told me, he recovered!

I can remember having a painful gum boil when I was a child, and my mother heating a bag of salt in the oven and wrapping it in a cloth for me to lay my face on. For headaches, too, there were vinegar rags laid over my forehead.

Violet Simpson

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A herring around the neck!

Violet Simpson as a child (above), and her Gran (far left), who had a cure for everything!
Violet Simpson as a child (above), and her Gran (far left), who had a cure for everything!

In these days of modem medicine, I often look back in awe at the remedies of old.

My Gran, who lived with us, was a font of wisdom, with a cure for everything, and although her ‘old folk remedies’ were beyond belief, they had a grain of wisdom in them.

In 1936, when I was about ten, my mother was ill with a terribly sore throat, so Gran took over, deciding that oil was needed. Dad, meanwhile, had gone to fetch the lady doctor unbeknown to Gran. The doctor arrived and went into the bedroom, where she found Mum tucked up in bed with a raw herring, sliced up the middle with its head tied to its tail, around her neck.

I was outside the door when I heard what sounded like a strangled squeak. Then out came the
doctor, arm extended, holding a very sad-looking herring between thumb and finger and telling poor Gran in no uncertain tone that herrings were for eating, not wearing!

Gran often told me about when her eldest son was about six and had a terrible cough. She couldn’t afford a doctor so she rubbed his chest and back with goose fat, rolled him in brown paper, tied it around him and put him to bed -but, as she proudly told me, he recovered!

I can remember having a painful gum boil when I was a child, and my mother heating a bag of salt in the oven and wrapping it in a cloth for me to lay my face on. For headaches, too, there were vinegar rags laid over my forehead.

Violet Simpson

More Stories

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