What Sounds & Smells Instantly Transport You Back to CH?

[kerrensimmonds]

Hmm.. I'm a bit like that. Don't open the door of my airing cupboard. It is very similar to my locker. Donkeys years ago DR escorted her beloved younger brother round the school and with a flourish pulled open the door of locker 2.11. Everything fell out. He was so embarrassed for the poor child (i.e. me) that from his employers (Nestle) he sent a box of goodies which included my first introduction to the delights of Milo. Yumm....
Later in life (around the time of DRW's funeral) he no longer had any recollection of his kindness, but I have not forgotten.
As for these days, I employ a cleaner (and have done so for some years, since I became disabled). I have been through several in the last 10 or so years, but NONE of them meet my 'standards'. For instance, last week I discovered that the current person uses only Pledge to clean everything, including antique wooden furniture. And she does not look above her eyeline and therefore misses e.g. swooping cobwebs in the conservatory.
Her most enduring trait is to move furniture and books etc. on shelves into different positions, to show that she has been here (and she will only come here when I am out at work).
Drives me bonkers.
Any ideas, anyone?!

[icomefromalanddownunder]

and no Maria you wouldn't remember either at home because we used Duraglit - mostly for things like Guide badges!
I had forgotten that the one thing my husband is perfectionist about is his Sea Cadet uniform; for that reason I was long ago banned from ironing shirts because he likes odd extra creases in his, as used apparently by the PT branch of the Navy!? .

OMG - I AM NOT ALONE.

Ex-husband is also ex-London Nautical School, ex-Merchant Navy and ex-Sea Cadet Officer. I could never master the seven creases down the back of the uniform shirts (in memory/honour/whateva of The Seven Seas) - can't say that I ever tried - so he ironed those himself.

When do I clean the kitchen floor? When it becomes too much of an effort to unstick my foot from it.

Cleaning windows? Dirty windows negate the need for net curtains, which then don't need to be washed themselves.

Before I started school I spent many happy hours helping my Nan clean the brasses at our local church. I think that we used Duraglit, or maybe that was for our cutlery and we used Bluebell for the brasses. Anyway - lectern was a large brass eagle with extended wings, and I would happily try to get the black residue out of every feather. Somehow cleaning window brasses at Hertford was never any fun.

xxxxxx

[englishangel]

MY cupboards are quite tidy, including the airing cupboard, and I always say that is because none of the rest of the family use it. Also my desk at work is a tip because everyone wants stuff done NOW,but my computer is organised, as is my filing system, and if I have a spare moment (haha) my desk gets tidied.

[J.R.]

One of our wall plaques reads...........

"Welcome to Our House.
You may touch the dust,
but PLEASE Don't Write in it !!"

[gma]

Sorry I know that the thread's been a little high-jacked but I LOVE YOU ALL!!!!!

However, I have just realised (and carried out) the upside to being a CH trained slattern (aren't they all just lovely words, slattern, slut etc etc they really are what they sound like, like timpani but not like tarmac!!)

I have just comeback from having a minor op which will restrict my movements for a week or so; last night and this morning this house got hit up with a military style operation, all beds changed,(even those where no-one's booked to sleep in in the next week but just in case...), extra milk supplies stacked up in the beer fridge, extra cereal, whole house hoovered and dusted, shirts washed, ironing collection organised in stages over the next week (otherwise she might abandon me, eek!), pheasant tagine defrosted for tonight, freezer full of easily retrievable and heatable meals for a week and everything moved to the required height, including remotes for tv, satellite and stereo together with all the dvds I've been meaning to watch!!

HWMBI is wondering why, if I can turn the place from pigsty to palace in less than 3 hours, i don't do it more often and make it easier on myself. Sigh, how can I explain to a boy from civvy-school?



But did get a whole lungfull of CH whiff this morning - Matron with the ortho-shoes and the galleon-in-full-sail cap always smelt of something vaguely 'medical', found out this morning it's the alcohol swab juice stuff they use to wash your skin with before choppping and stitching. Hmm, so did she drink it, use it for 'parfum', bathe in it or carry out secret experiements 'up t'inf'?

[icomefromalanddownunder]

But did get a whole lungfull of CH whiff this morning - Matron with the ortho-shoes and the galleon-in-full-sail cap always smelt of something vaguely 'medical', found out this morning it's the alcohol swab juice stuff they use to wash your skin with before choppping and stitching. Hmm, so did she drink it, use it for 'parfum', bathe in it or carry out secret experiements 'up t'inf'?

In a previous existence I worked at King's, Denmark Hill, as a Medical Scientist. Actually, in those days we were Medical Laboratory Technicians, even though we had degrees.

Anyway, I suddenly found myself to be highly attractive to some men. None of them were normal, but some were highly attractive in a bad boy kind of way. I went through the 'oooh, how exciting' stage and the 'hmmm, wonder what this is all about' stage before realising that they all, as well as, well, dribbling in their excitement, would pantingly ask me if I were a Nurse. What the?

Was it my caring nature or my habit of wearing black tights that led them to believe that I could help fulfill their fantasies?

Eventually dawned on me that they were, possibly subliminally, homing in on the smell of hospital antiseptic that permeated my hair, skin and clothes; defying any attempt to bury it beneath clouds of Madame Rochas.

xxxxx

[gma]

Eventually dawned on me that they were, possibly subliminally, homing in on the smell of hospital antiseptic that permeated my hair, skin and clothes; defying any attempt to bury it beneath clouds of Madame Rochas.

ROTFL at that one!

NO, is entirely unacceptable for the fabulousness of a Hertford girl to be thus labelled.

It wasn't the black stockings, it was the total aplomb with which you wore them after the years of training!!

[J.R.]

Eventually dawned on me that they were, possibly subliminally, homing in on the smell of hospital antiseptic that permeated my hair, skin and clothes; defying any attempt to bury it beneath clouds of Madame Rochas.

ROTFL at that one!

NO, is entirely unacceptable for the fabulousness of a Hertford girl to be thus labelled.

It wasn't the black stockings, it was the total aplomb with which you wore them after the years of training!!

There's those words again !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[Angela Woodford]

Caroline! I too loved Madame Rochas!

Once, at a party, I met a gorgeous guy. His dark hair rippled past his shoulders under a leather cowboy hat. His hips tapered into sleek muscularity beneath the tightest jeans. The jeans, customised in the most on-trend way, flared to the floor. You couldn't have slid the sleeve of DSotM beneath hem and the stained carpet. I had drenched myself with Madame Rochas on all my pulse points. Perhaps... tonight...?

We exchanged a few desultory words about Deep Purple. Then he drew closer and took my hand in his. He looked deeply, deeply into my eyes. Around us, the party ebbed and flowed, but there was just a throbbing, a roaring in my ears, an oblivion... only the two of us existed for that moment in time!

"Beautiful smile, beautiful girl" he murmured, raising the palm of my hand to his lips. Then - he staggered back!

"What?" he ejaculated. "Where has your hand been? Oh yuck! Christalmighty!"

It was no use. No scrubbing, no soaking in hot bubbles, no pulse-point drenching with Madame Rochas could eradicate the tell-tale whiff of surgical spirit and possibly worse. My chance gone! My allure spurned! Oh!

[NEILL THE NOTORIOUS]

I'm not sure I'm on the right Topic. ---with all these memoirs of strange perfumes. I can't say I remember any at CH, but then it was Boys only --------However ---- ? No I still don't remember any !
One of the things which, I believe, has remained with many OBs, including myself, is the ability to do "Hospital Corners"
with which I impressed my Nurse Wife, when we married. --- Now it is all Duvets, so what is one to do ?
I have the ability to swim in very cold water, but I don't believe this stems from "Cold Baths" in the mornings --- as I recall they lasted about .5 seconds -- if uou lingered !
Back to Perfumes --- I bought my wife "Poison" --- but she didn't drink it !
I am glad to say that she has no idea, how to get on to this Forum !

[icomefromalanddownunder]

"What?" he ejaculated. "Where has your hand been? Oh yuck! Christalmighty!"

It was no use. No scrubbing, no soaking in hot bubbles, no pulse-point drenching with Madame Rochas could eradicate the tell-tale whiff of surgical spirit and possibly worse. My chance gone! My allure spurned! Oh!

[Ajarn Philip]

Caroline! I too loved Madame Rochas!

Once, at a party, I met a gorgeous guy. His dark hair rippled past his shoulders under a leather cowboy hat. His hips tapered into sleek muscularity beneath the tightest jeans. The jeans, customised in the most on-trend way, flared to the floor. You couldn't have slid the sleeve of DSotM beneath hem and the stained carpet. I had drenched myself with Madame Rochas on all my pulse points. Perhaps... tonight...?

We exchanged a few desultory words about Deep Purple. Then he drew closer and took my hand in his. He looked deeply, deeply into my eyes. Around us, the party ebbed and flowed, but there was just a throbbing, a roaring in my ears, an oblivion... only the two of us existed for that moment in time!

"Beautiful smile, beautiful girl" he murmured, raising the palm of my hand to his lips. Then - he staggered back!

"What?" he ejaculated. "Where has your hand been? Oh yuck! Christalmighty!"

It was no use. No scrubbing, no soaking in hot bubbles, no pulse-point drenching with Madame Rochas could eradicate the tell-tale whiff of surgical spirit and possibly worse. My chance gone! My allure spurned! Oh!

I remember it well, Angela - put me off nurses for life!

[mattw]

The sound of chainsaws always takes me back to the days after the 16th October 1987 when CH was being cleared of all the fallen trees.

[NEILL THE NOTORIOUS]

Those fallen trees --- When I visited CH, years later, I didn't notice the difference at first.
Somebody remarked about the loss, and I could then see that they were replacements.
Of course, since I first encountered them in 1940, and left in 1946, they looked much the same, only being 44 years old !

[Wuppertal]

Smell: varnish for wooden floors takes me to CH instantly. The smell of freshly varnished stairs, stairrails and dayroom floors in the boarding houses. Got a whiff of it yesterday!