Topic: Tales from your early Days

[kenkew]

Nostalgia is a word refering to wonderful memories of the past and talking about the past usually brings up some quite hilarious memories and a yearning for days gone by.
 The reality is sometimes quite a bit different, as anyone who lived through the difficulties of the 30's, the war years, the rationing times and not to mention the times spent hiding behind the sofa and speaking in whispers so the rent-man, the 'Tick-man' and even the milk-man thought you were out....not that you had anywhere to go anyway! When we look back we tend to discount the bad times and prefer to remember the funny and 'better' periods of life. A survival thing I suppose.
 I started this thread because another one on here was heading down the nostalgia path and, Oh! How easy it is to slip into those memories....but why do we laugh at situations which at the time were actually pretty terrible....well, not all of them were that bad....not really...or were they?
 Care to tell a true tale or two of your 'different' past memory days?'

[Jeannine]

Hi, I ma not going to bore you with my memories of days gone by, I know someone who can do a much better job than I can.

I would like to introduce to my brother Maurice, apart from being a poet his nostaglic writings are a real good read.

go for it bruv...


http://www.thisisull.com/articles/arundelstpart1.html

XX Jeannine

[kt.]

I remember camping out with my mate as a kid, about 22-23yrs ago now. Around 2am one morning we went  and stood on the motorway bridge, not far from our house and our tent.... urinating over the bridge as cars went by.

At 11-12 years old we found it a little amusing.  Boys will be boys ;D ;D ;D.

[kenkew]

I’ll start my bit off with the very first thing I can remember in my life!
 It must have been a Friday because Friday was bath night! My dad had to go to on his evening work shift that night, (5 ½ days and 6 days were normal working days then) and his first job was to fill the tin tub with cold water from the tap and top it up with hot water from a huge pan off the open fire. The pan then got refilled and put back on the swinging fire hob to warm up again. None of the water got changed it just kept getting warmed up!
 I must have been almost 2 years old and second in line for the tub. My younger brother, a baby, got first dip, then me, then my older brother, then mam and finally dad before he set off for work. All bathing Saturday to Thursday was a cold water all over strip-wash at the kitchen sink!
 Something in my head told me that the tub was a bad thing. The recurring bath-nights proved my instinct correct. The ‘Tub’ meant not so much a pleasurable warm soak in front of a hot coke fire, more of 10 min’s of agony being attacked with a scrubbing brush, having my hair combed with a nit-comb, my ears de-gunged with a piece of well chewed liquorice stick (my Grandmother’s idea!) and my nose emptied with the corner of a soggy towel. No wonder I headed of, stark naked, out of the door.
 My mother made a grab for me, but with soapy hands on soft skin she couldn’t hang on, especially as my baby brother needed at least one of her hands to stop from drowning. My father had a quite badly lamed leg and couldn’t get to me before I was out of the door and off down the street. The cobbles were slippy but the tar between them gave traction and in no time at all I was quite a way off.
 By this time I suppose dad had taken over from mam and I heard her running behind me shouting, ‘Stop him’. Next I knew I was confronted with a bloke in a flat cap leaning forward like a rugby player with his arms out stretched ready to grab me. I made to run through his legs but he got me! I was held by the ankles and unceremoniously deposited back into the arms of my mother!
 I was even dirtier now than when I escaped and needed even more massaging from the scrubbing brush. From then on the front door was always locked on a Friday!

[betula]

I love my mum to reminisce and she has loads of stories to tell,The bad winter of 47? ,they had to take the doors off and the shelves down to burn to keep warm.
She used to go down to the canal side with an old pram to collect slack.A type of coal I think.She used to have to wear the mail Boots,Boots given to poor children by the Birmingham evening mail.She was evacuated and she and her brothers and sisters were cared for by a farmer and his wifeThe farmers son was killed in the war.He became deranged and held them all at gunpoint with his shotgun.My uncle managed to escape through a window to get help.Sometimes they were so hungry they tried to eat frozen beats from the fields.They ended up with the sally army who my mum to this day hates .She said the people there taught you the meaning of the saying cold charity.This was a long time ago of course.She still maintains they were better days then in lots of ways.You could leave your door open and neighbours supported each other..Tell you more in a later post.

[Blue Bird]

Born in the early 50's and can remember Rhyl just being sand hills for miles and our house next to the railway line with the steam trains hurtling past every hour or so bringing all the summer visitors.

they had special weeks when the factories in the big industrial towns having the closure of the factories and the families heading to the seaside.

Although we lived in a council house we moved into the shed for the weeks between July and September as my Mum took in Bed & Breakfast.
Us kids would make trolleys from old prams and go casing (offering to carry the heavy cases from families from the railway to the B&B they were staying at.

Always seemed to be sunny  ???  I think we are the lucky generation as I would not like to grow up now with all the temptations and lack of respect there seems to be.

[rosebud]

I remember the cold cold winters, my dad used to carry a shovelful of lighted coal embers :o :o :o, up the stairs to the bedroom put a couple of shovels of coal on then when the fire got going we used to go to bed, with the army overcoats on top for warmth, & watch the fire burn & talk for ages all 3, of us in one bed. :o

Also remember getting a good clip round the ear, when telling the tallyman
mummy said she is not in & will pay you next week, he said who told you to say that while he was walking down the passage and then said morning Mrs
Davis, dont put the kiddie up to tricks, when he went with his 2shllings boy was i in trouble ;D ;D ;D.

[katynewbie]

 :-\

In the 60s we had an old bloke who lived in a pipe. He was a drinker and was known as "Cider Jack" and slept in a huge left over sewage pipe which was about 5 feet high. As kids we were all told that we should stay away from him, he tried to say something to me once and I remember telling him my Dad was a policeman (complete fib) and he wandered off.

In the 70s, when I had left home, Mum sent me a local paper cutting about Cider Jack having burnt to death in his pipe, some kids had set fire to a pile of rags, not realising he was still in there.

Still feel sad about it!

 :-\

[betula]

We had a hippie phase,We used to go to the local pet shop and buy budgie bells to hang round our neck.We put flowers in our hair and go round saying peace man and groovy.
I loved the mini skirt,I used to go out of the house with my skirt at normal length and as soon as I was round the corner away from dads inspection I rolled it over at the top.
I can remember the day radio one started.Our English teacher asked us to listen to it and write an essay on what we thought about it.
I discovered the children's author Malcolm Saville and fell in love with his characters in the lone pine series.So much so that today I am a member of the Malcolm Savillesociety and we meet up every year for a weekend vi sting locations from the books.Happy days. :)

[Jeannine]

I remember vividly the day that Sir Edmund Hilary conquered Everest, I was enthralled with the whole thing even though I was quite little, a bit odd for someone my age then.

About 10 years ago I was collecting signatures on fabric for a quilt I was making with famous folk on it. I sent him a piece of fabric and told him about my childhood fascination with his journey.

He returned my signed fabric with a smashing letter and a family snap of him all windblown wearing wellies in his rose garden.

Needless to say I was pretty sad when he died recently.


I remember the posh lady from across the road who had two husbands, well one husband and Uncle George, but they both went to sea at different times and both treated her like a queen. She taught me how to make hospital corners on a bed and said a lady only drinks from a china cup...I still do!!

I remember having the toes cut out of my sandals when they had grown too small so that they lasted longer.

 I remember being ill and my Mum wrapping my knees in cotton wool, I was laid down for a long time, I later found out it was rheumatic fever.

Rosebud , I remember the hot coals being carried on a shovel, my Mum's friends child got burned running into one.

I remember weekends at our houseboat and swimming in the river, and catching a huge pike and finding a very wild cat with babies and stealing one, I raised it on a dolls bottle.

I remember climbing out of the window and hanging off the ledge for a dare, of course I couldn't get back and was screaming for my dad who raced up the stairs to pull me back,boy did I ever get into trouble that day.

I remember going for a picnic and making a drink with a mild solution of vinegar and water and a bit of sugar.

Moving on a few years,paper nylon petticoats and felt circular skirts with a poodle on, and long hair ribbons that were the same colour as the stockings we wore..oh I loved the emerald green ones.

Then came bottom drawers, collecting stuff for that day I intended to get married.

I remember picking John up on Selby Station when I was 16 by pretending I couldn't carry my case, bless him, he didn't stand a chance.

 XX Jeannine

[SamLouise]

I’ll start my bit off with the very first thing I can remember in my life!
 It must have been a Friday because Friday was bath night! My dad had to go to on his evening work shift that night, (5 ½ days and 6 days were normal working days then) and his first job was to fill the tin tub with cold water from the tap and top it up with hot water from a huge pan off the open fire. The pan then got refilled and put back on the swinging fire hob to warm up again. None of the water got changed it just kept getting warmed up!
 I must have been almost 2 years old and second in line for the tub. My younger brother, a baby, got first dip, then me, then my older brother, then mam and finally dad before he set off for work. All bathing Saturday to Thursday was a cold water all over strip-wash at the kitchen sink!
 Something in my head told me that the tub was a bad thing. The recurring bath-nights proved my instinct correct. The ‘Tub’ meant not so much a pleasurable warm soak in front of a hot coke fire, more of 10 min’s of agony being attacked with a scrubbing brush, having my hair combed with a nit-comb, my ears de-gunged with a piece of well chewed liquorice stick (my Grandmother’s idea!) and my nose emptied with the corner of a soggy towel. No wonder I headed of, stark naked, out of the door.
 My mother made a grab for me, but with soapy hands on soft skin she couldn’t hang on, especially as my baby brother needed at least one of her hands to stop from drowning. My father had a quite badly lamed leg and couldn’t get to me before I was out of the door and off down the street. The cobbles were slippy but the tar between them gave traction and in no time at all I was quite a way off.
 By this time I suppose dad had taken over from mam and I heard her running behind me shouting, ‘Stop him’. Next I knew I was confronted with a bloke in a flat cap leaning forward like a rugby player with his arms out stretched ready to grab me. I made to run through his legs but he got me! I was held by the ankles and unceremoniously deposited back into the arms of my mother!
 I was even dirtier now than when I escaped and needed even more massaging from the scrubbing brush. From then on the front door was always locked on a Friday!

^^^

[manicscousers]

you were lucky, kk..the bath worked the other way around in our house and I was the youngest  :o

[lorna]

I was in big trouble with Mum (she was very handy with a swipe round the ear)
so I dashed upstairs locked myself in the loo then decided to climb down the waste pipe and go off fo 3 hours. I was in more trouble when I returned as Mum needed to  use the loo. I did that more than once.

[valmarg]

I think my earliest memories are having to go into hospital to have my appendix removed, aged three.

It was pre-NHS days.  I had been whinging on with stomach ache all day. 
Thinking back it was a Saturday, and eventually, I was taken to see our GP.  He told my parents to take me straight to the hospital.  I had my appendix removed, and boy they didn't believe in keyhole surgery in those days!!!  My stomach doesn't exactly look like a surgeon's battleground, but not very far removed!!

It made such an impression on me that when I went back to work in the hospital as a medical secretary, I could go back to exactly where my bed had been, and it brought the horrid memories flooding back.

valmarg


valmarg

[Carol]

I remember having my tonsils removed in about 1951/2.  So many children were to have their tonsils out that it was 2 to a bed.  It was like a production line in and out the same day.  I remember feeling so ill but brightened up when I saw the ice cream n jelly and I had been promised a 'scooter' for being a Clever Girl.  I was ill for a few days after though. 

I do have so many memories.  I remember the tradesmen coming round the doors with Horses and carts.  Especially the Fruit and Veg. man,   a fish n chip cart pulled by a horse.  The cabin was litten with gas lamps,  I have no idea how he managed to make the food.  Milkmans cart was pulled by a Horse.  I also know that my Dad had a bucket ready for the horse muck should the animal oblige while we were buying the Vegetables. 

 ::)

[manicscousers]

the rag and bone man used to come around, at one time we got goldfish for the stuff we gave him, then he went upmarket and started giving out cups and saucers  ;D
range fire, no tv until I was 8, both my parents smoked so no car until my dad gave up and I was 15..we were lucky, my brother got a dansette record player when he was 15, also a tape recorder later on, very small tv in a cupboard and a water heater on the wall, lots of coats and things on the bed to keep us warm in winter but my mum was the greatest cook, she used to bake and cook 4 times a week, home made ox tail soup and bread, yum
she used to make corned beef hash, rolled into balls, covered in breadcrumbs and deep fried..used to call them Mrs Miller's great balls of fire..no wonder I've got cholesterol problems, everything fried in lard   :-X ;D