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I remember lots from my childhood and mainly have good or harmless memories.
I remember my eldest sister who I thought was the best she used to take me places and even took me shopping with her friends when she was 18 and I was only 4. She used to pay a childs fare of 4 pence on the bus and tell me not to tell my mum and I never did.
She took me to get my ears pierced when I was 5.
When I was 7 I was told she was adopted by my mum and dad (my mum told me). I asked a couple of questions but was told that my sister loved my mum and dad and they loved her so they chose each other but I wasn't to tell my sister. What did I do! Of course I told my sister and she asked what I had been told and then filled me in on the full story.
When I was 7 or 8 my sister got married me and my other sister were bidesmades. She told me not long after that she was going to have a baby. Once she had my nephew we saw her, but not as much as I would have liked and at 11 I became his godmother. Soon we never saw her at all because of some row or other with my parents. Although I do remember near mothers day my dad telling her she had better turn up and visit my mum and she came with a little box of chocolates.
I remember me and my sister going camping with her and her husband and son but not a lot else.
My earliest memory is when I was about 2 or 3 and sitting in a low chair (a high chair that could be made lower) eating cornflakes. Then when I was a bit older, maybe 3 or 4, my other sister who is 5 years older than me sitting me in the chair when we were playing house and making me eat biscuits mixed with water so it was like baby food. She wouldn't let me out until I had eaten it all and threatened that if I told my mum she would say I had got loads of biscuits and eaten them all. As I was young I believed I would get in to trouble if she did this so I ate it all.
I remember growing up with my sister (real sister) and as we got older my mum and dad used to let her babysit me sometimes, but she didn't like being on her own so she would let me get up when they had gone out. One night my dad came back for something and I had to run up the stairs but as he was going back out he said to my sister don't let her stay up too late. After that I would never go downstairs when they went out I was scared my mum would find out so I used to sit at the top of the stairs and read and we would shout to each other.
My sister and I used to argue a lot but if anyone including my parents tried to intervene we turned on them.
My sister was good enough to let me hang around with her and her friends but only because one of her friends had a sister around my age. So we used to all hang around together.
One evening when we were playing out people decided to play on a lorry that had been doing some work. My sister said to me if anyone shouts I will lie down with you that way no one will know we are here. (she had done that the night before when all the others had climbed out. Me being the smallest I couldn't get out without help but ................ after we had been playing for around 10 mins a lady shouted at us my sister lay down and I was the first off the lorry and down the street.
Thinking about it I must have been quite easily led by my sister as it was her that taught me knock a door and to knock and ask for newspapers, then knock again and leave them. She also taught me how to tie the old fashiond door knockers together on a street and pull from one end then pull to snap it. The thing was we always did it on her friends street and left her door out and the old ladies next door, so I think people had a pretty good idea it was us.
I remember when we got a car for the first time, we thought WOW. It was a vauxhall viva XL (Ithink) and we used to pile in with friends to go places like hollingworth lake and we always hoped we could sit in the boot. (ARRRRHH so scarey now).
We were so pleased when we got a telephone and our friend from across the road ran in to phone us but had to come and ask our number.
Holidays - The first family holiday I remember packing up the car as we were going to stay in a caravan in Cornwall for two weeks. My mum had packed 2 bigs sacks of food to take with us and we were going to be meeting up with my Aunty and Uncle who where country and western singers.
The car was packed and my dad left a little gap so he could see through the back window. There were no seatbelts in the backs of cars then so we had our quilts with us so we could sleep on the way down as we were setting off in the middle of the night.
That holiday I remember seeing my Aunty and Uncle perform - it was great.
Even after they had moved away from Cornwall we still visited and enjoyed the caravan sites. As my sister got older she often invited a friend along.
My mum and dad have always worked hard from when I was about 4 or 5 my mum worked nights so on a Saturday afternoon my dad looked after us and he taught me to play cards and would make chips in a bag for us. When my mum was waiting for him to come home before she could go to bed I used to do her hair, she let me put bobbles in etc. Thinking back it was probably because she was very tired.
My grandparents play a part in my childhood memories. Each day after school my mum used to visit her parents that lived on the same street. I remember my nan getting ill and the bed being downstairs and one day my mum crying and pretending she wasn't when I asked why.
My nana used to save 5 pence pieces and when it was her grandchildrens birthdays she would give us 50p in 5 pence pieces.
My dads mum (I don't remember my grandad on this side he died before I was born) use to walk to church every sunday until we started driving her and my dad picking her up. Although even before we had a car my dad would walk to church to walk her home.
I could waffle on lots more but I would just go on forever.
My dad was a new man before they existed and I had a happy childhood although I do remember my parents rowing quite a lot
As I child I remember both good and bad memories, unfortunately some bad things we don't tend to forget and are scarred by them for the rest of our lives. On the other hand we will all have some good memories that will bring a smile to our faces when we think of them. I'm going to start with a few of my favourite memories.
I shared a room with my sister and we were always very close to each other. She's only 2 years older than me and we had the same interests so were always playing together and doing other things together. We had so much Barbie stuff it was unbelievable, every Sunday we used to get it all downstairs and take it in turns to choice various Barbie furniture and clothing for our dolls. We then used to each pick a part of the room and set up a little house/room for our Barbie dolls. We would play together for ages and if we weren't doing that we were playing board games together. We used to go on bike ride's together and my dad used to take us to the woods for a walk where would often collect conkers and fir cones.
I used to love these as a child. My dad used to take us on bike ride's up to the local shops where they had an old fashioned sweet shop (I'm talking about penny sweet's in jars). We would always get treated to a small bag of sweets or an ice cream. We also spent a lot of time with my granddad, who would always play games with us or help us colour in pictures. I remember one time we all went for a walk in the woods and my granddad got us lost and we have to climb down a big hill, which was covered in leaves and twigs, we all found that quite funny. We used to spend a lot of time at my Nan and Grandad's house, especially on a Sunday where we would go round for tea until late in the evening. In their spare room they used to have a wardrobe with lots of toys and games in and we were always allowed to choose something to play with. My favourite thing used to be called Fuzzy Felt and me and my sister used to play with it for hours. My auntie and Uncle used to live in quite a big house and often we would go over there to see them. I remember one night they had a bonfire and fireworks and we ate some lovely food and were allowed to play in the garden until late as it was still light at 9pm. They used to have these ride on toys there which I loved including a little milk float, police car and a little tractor with a trailer. In their attic they used to have lots more toys and when we went over there my cousin used to take us up there to have a look and play with a few of the toys, until it was time to go home.
***MY BROTHER/SOCIAL SERVICES***
Unfortunately I don't really have many happy memories of my big brother who is 5 years older than me. He was never very nice to me or my sister and always seems to be a problem child. He used to punch us quite a lot and hurt us. In fact it got so bad that we used to have to go and see a lady from social services every single week which I hated. I can't remember everything as I was very small but I remember the lady from social services very well including her name. I also remember having my toe broken by my brother and when my sister was running away from him, her slipping and hitting her head on the metal door frame. It wasn't just me and my sister he was horrible to, it was my mum as well, she got to see what a problem child he was when he tried to push her down the stairs! My dad used to work a lot as my parents were in debt so he was never around to help my mum and I think that's why my mum rang social services for help.
I remember when I was at first school being taken out early. My aunt came to pick me up and took me home; my sister was there with my brother. My dad had, had an accident at work and was in hospital. It turned out that the boiler where he worked blew up and his clothes caught on fire and he was badly burnt. I remember when he came home, he was covered in bandages and was very red and looked sore. I always remember the day he came home but don't remember anymore after that. When I was at first school, at one point I was very poorly. I came home from school and my mum had cooked my favourite dinner (sausage casserole). I ate it but shortly after was sick and felt very ill. My legs looked a funny colour as if they were covered from top to bottom in purple bruises. I remember being taken to the doctor's where I was sick again and then being taken up to hospital. I remember feeling very tired and ill and them taking blood from me. I was put in a room on my own where my mum could stay with me for the night. I remember waking up and them taking some more blood from me in the early hours of the morning. I caught a very bad virus (I can't even spell it) and they hadn't seen anyone with it before. I remember various doctors coming to look at me, even student doctors in groups as well. I was in hospital for a few weeks before I was allowed home again. I got some lovely cards & presents from the neighbour's friends and from the school too.
So there you go, some happy and some bad memories. Not everyone has the perfect life and we always go through bad experiences, but it's those experiences that make us stronger!
Thank you for reading and commenting on this review.
In answer to the questions which have been left for this review . . . I don't have anything to do with my brother since he was found guilty of a horrible crime and got sent to prison.
As you would expect I was naughty but nice as a kid, a secret compass hidden in our Clarks shoes and no one batting an eye-lid if you carried a penknife and had your hood up. It was innocent times growing up in the seventies and although there were rough boys and gangs and no computer games we still had fun and it really was a far safer time. I would not like to be a lad or teenager today as the innocence in most places has gone, and what's childhood without innocence. At least my generation of kids didn't stab people for straying out of their own post code or running drugs for the wrong 'hoodie'. Today posh kids don't go out much and its homework and the Playstation all the way before the clocks go foreword whilst the underclass sproggs continue to rage those conflicts on those Playstation games for real. Middle-England slap a law suit on the council if little Toby cuts his knee on the climbing frame whilst the Under Class sue if their benefits drop below £300 per week. Our childhood memories really were better than yours.
When I was little I got caught shoplifting. It wasn't my idea but my mate insisted we should steel some Action Man stuff from a shopping centre about a mile away. After you get away with it once your back again and again as the stuff is free and it's like a Christmas every day. But you will always get caught and on the fourth attempt we were collared around the back of the store where we were foolishly inspecting our booty. Talk about peeing on someone's doorstep. I shouldn't have gone for the Action Man Scout Car, the size of my school bag, somewhat ambitious. This was not Oceans 11.
Our parents were phoned and the police took us to the cop shop for a serious ticking down in front of mum and dad. It was terrible and I cried like Simon Cowell when they took his favourite mirror away, not only because of the fear of the cops but I had embarrassed my mum, the police car parked directly outside our house. The irony was that the other lad who had taken me on our little Saturday morning adventures was the son of a policeman, his rebellion far worse on his family. Needless to say I haven't stolen anything since, apart from a few kisses from girls I shouldn't have.
Long hot summers....
As kids we only remember the good summers, sitting on the porch playing Top Trumps or going down the local park to play football...jumpers down. Rain never existed and we had the time of our lives for those long seven weeks, brilliantly captured in the film Son of Rambow. A game of footy would quickly become 13 aside as the big boys joined in and first to 24. It was always 18 all and next goal wins it as our muddy knee caps gave up. No one had bought pop so thirst called a halt.
I recall one of the most pleasurable things we did as kids was to hack a maze of tunnels with our favourite sticks through stinging nettles and bramble bushes in the more derelict areas of the parks, the towering walls of shrubs allowing us to build natural fortress, a rare quiet intimacy in the urban roar, and woe betide anyone who enters. I had my first kiss in the centre of our maze in Eastfield Park. The local tomboy offered her left cheek to me when I was 11. I was happy with that. Rougher girls offered a boob you know.
In the old days dads went out to work and mums worked part-time or from home. My mum had a big machine that would rivet small buckles and belts and we would have little production line where we could earn extra pocket money by doing part of the process. I did alright out of it and would often have a whole fiver to send come Saturday, a lot of cash back in the 1970s. I would push a leather dongle under the hand pull machine and then place the rivet in the metal cup and it would clamp it all in place. Thirty years previous kids were expected to do that all day in the workhouse and pushed out of school by their 14th birthday if they showed no academic potential. The Tories are in so that could return. It certainly taught me the value of hard work and a fiscal reward for that. Sadly I wasted the money on marbles, Lucky Bags and Panini football stickers.
Air guns and lazers!
Once you discover the power of the magnifying glass to kill ants with a concentrated beam of sunlight you are power hungry for the rest of your life. The spud gun no longer wielded the same firepower potential a kid could get hold off. You then progress to the industrial catapult and then the more sinister 1.66 air gun, mail order only, not the most accurate of weapons but it looked like a gun and so pretty cool. For some reason I used to open fire on my neighbours perplex roof to let the rain in and once took a pot-shot at a vicar visiting in their garden. The nature of the 1.66 calibre is that if you try not to aim at something you generally hit that something. I think the pellet is still lodged in his ear now. Today in London the black boys have real guns and a funny look can earn you a much higher calibre in the buttocks or worse. Everything seems to have got more severe today. Wouldn't it be better if the black boys used spud guns in Brixton.
Wasn't much of ladies man until my twenties and can't recall having a proper girlfriend until I was 17, and even then it was a rather awkward affair, drawn to the local tomboy who lived up the road. She taught me how to drink Jack Daniels and unhook bra's with one hand - one hand all I needed. The youngest girl I remember liking was a pretty Asian girl I followed home from lower school. I think she let me carry her satchel once, which at eight-years-old counts as a kiss. Nothing like your first proper kiss as your braces locked together (that's teeth braces not the ones form the posh tailors).
In the old days you could sneak in the County Ground for Cobblers (Northampton town) games at half-time for night matches and get a good 45 minutes free footy. Now the fans are locked in for 45 minutes after kick-off at Sixfields, Northampton's modern but bland ground, mainly because we can't afford the policing any more. It was great fun and as the Spion & Cop end was open you could hear every word the players swore on the pitch in the old fourth division when crowds were often below 2,000. The biggest game I recall was when we lost one nil to the European Champions Aston Villa in the 3rd round of the cup to a Daley goal, the ground packed to capacity at 17,000, £2.75p to get in.
Most of you over 35 collected these at one point, be it the football ones or obscure stuff like the Star Wars collection, the latter a rather limited series, three Chewbacca's and two Hans Solos in every packet. Previous to that in the early 70s we picked up on the American trend of those waxy baseball bubblegum packs, the British kids oblivious to who the hell the baseball players were but enjoying the gum inside. I have Ricky Sanchez of the Metros if anyone wants swapsies! Panini collecting was far more serious then, as addictive as crack cocaine, the playground dealers offering 'wraps' of obscure St Mirren players for three Gary Linekers. But Panini got cocky and introduced the metallic team badges, soon requiring four segments to complete the badge and the team picture. Even a 12-year-old could see we were being ripped off now.
Conkers and cherries
In this stunning autumn I saw a rare sight last week, dad slinging the stick up in a tree to get conkers for his lad. In these health & safety days you expected a warden to jump out and give him a ticket or something, or at least supply him with an elongated version of those little picker clamps you see the street sweepers use to 'pluck' the conkers down. In our day you would hurl anything you could find up there until the tree looked like a plucked turkey on Christmas Eve. In the rougher estate parks there would be railway sleepers and pushchairs lodged in the branches. Conkers is now a very middle-class experience and played with kids in goggles in private nursery play areas.
Alas Halloween has overtaken Guy Fawkes as the big night out in the autumn for kids, 911 kind of putting in context the fact November 5th is effectively celebrating a failed terror attack and so no longer appropriate, Trick or Treat, rather ironically, a safer thing for kids to be doing. Even the posh people let their kids go out alone and annoy pensioners to bag some choccy. As long as they don't leave the gated community or eat any sweets or nuts that or on their long allergy list it seems to back in turned.
We never did 'penny for the guy' or 'trick or treat' as kids, running off before the house owners answered the door, the cheery door nock. We used that and the guys chasing treats as a decoy to climb into back gardens and steal apple's and occasionally set alight to their ornate bonfires and lovely Guys on November the 4th. Cruel I know but that's what you did as kids when we didn't have computer games or VHS. Now wars in Iraq over oil are ok but bonfires are not as they are creating global warming.
I'm sure we all have memories from childhood we wish we could forget. But I prefer to focus on the precious ones, here are a few of mine:
The Best Holiday Ever
We didn't have a lot of money of after my parents split, so holidays were not the norm for us. My Mom and I used to go to a Mother and daughter group though and we took one trip with them. My Mother hated it, but I loved it.
Our trip got off to a slow start, as the bus broke down. This was before mobile phones, so someone got to walk for help. I didn't mind, it wasn t me after all, we all sat in the bus and sang songs, and played silly games. I thought it was a blast. After the bus was fixed, we ended up several hours later to the camp, dinner was long past, but they got us some cold leftovers. The grownups were not to happy, but it was fun eating in the big hall with rain lashing down.
Next to the cabins, they smelled quite a bit of damp and mildew, but after awhile you didn't notice anymore. There were not enough beds and the leader slept on the floor. I ended up squished in with my Mother when more people had to evacuate beds due to the leaking roof. My Mother says it was freezing, I don't remember that. Packed in close together with the blankets and our coats piled over top, it didn't seem too bad. I liked sitting up next to my Mother and whispering. I liked the sound of the rain on the roof, and leaking through the roof into the many buckets.
We were meant to go boating the next day, but the boat was leaking too. It didn't matter we all had fun throwing rocks into the green hued boating pond and fishing about with sticks to dip out big lumps of algae. We were meant to go hiking too, but the rain never stopped. We got a bit a filthy in the muck and everything, but the showers only had cold water. Some of the parents braved them, I just stayed dirty, except for a quick clean with a damp towel.
We spent all weekend indoor in the big hall. We played games, sang songs and listened to stories. The best bit was a play each group put on, it was short and simple but lots of fun. I still remember ever bit of it.
I mentioned how much I had enjoyed this holiday to my Mother a few years back. She couldn't believe it. "What - that horrible place?" It just goes to show you children look at things differently. I just thought it was brilliant spending all that time together. I am thankful she took the time to give me a special weekend. It turns out she felt very bad about it thinking I must have been disappointed, but I wasn't. It really was the best holiday ever.
My Grandfather of course raised his own children, then he stepped back up to the plate for us. I can not find words to express my admiration. We were living them with for awhile, and my Grandmother took my Mother out for they day now and then for some much needed r&r. Now my Grandfather always ate whatever was left over from the night before for his breakfast. This is before microwaves mind you - so he just ate it cold.
Well the first time he asked what i was used to eating, and Is aid I wanted what he had, so cold leftovers it was, plus crisps and sweets and anything else I wanted, but he always told me in such a secretive way, I had no need to be telling my grandmother any of this. I have the fondest memories of our mornings and afternoons together watching westerns or ww2 films, and all the stories about Normandy and the Ardennes, told with wonderfully gruesome detail ( another fact I wasn't to mention to Grandmother ).
I still remember colouring with my Grandmother, who told me it was boring to just colour things as they were meant to be, why shouldn't a hippopotamus be bright blue, the trees pink and the sky purple? Of course the teachers in school never saw it this way, but I'm glad my grandmother could think outside the box.
Finally I remember when my family went through a real crisis, a lovely young woman who was training to be a teacher and working at the school made arrangements with my Mother to take me out now and then on a weekend. For the rest of my life I will remember her kindness. Her actions inspired me to get involved in youth work as an adult. You never know what a difference a caring adult friend can make in a time of need for a child. These kind of things can have a ripple effect touching many lives in the long run.
Of course I did the normal childhood things too, going to parks and children's activities, but now as I get older it is the different things I remember the best. they just do not seem as special as cold leftovers and war stories, a leaking cabin, or bright blue hippos under purple skies.
As a child, you have this innocence and see things through rose tinted specs. My childhood was happy, maybe not always but we were lucky as we never went without.
I have a sister who is 8yrs older than me and who hated me from the day I was born. She wanted a brother and on numerous occasions tried to kill me. No joke..this involved my buggy being attached to her scooter and trying to feed my polo mints through my cot bars. Thankfully I was too young to remember that!
My parents worked hard and we lived a basic middle class life. I shared a room with my sister until she moved out. I have alot of memories from my childhood that if you care to listen, I would like to share with you all...
At 3months old, I was left with my grandparents as my Mum had to go back to work. My Gran who is 90 this year was no spring chicken when I was a child but looked after me as best she could. My Dad worked different shifts and was normally in his bed when I got in from school and Mum went to the bingo most nights (nothing changes).
My best friend Charlene, lived next door. Our rooms were right next to each other and we pleaded to have the wall knocked through. My fondest memories were that of spending time with her as we rarely see each other now. Myself and Charlene regularly set up our own little businesses. These ranged from making soap with a soap kit my sister bought me and along with my Mums fancy Radox and spending our pennies on Palmolive soap from the shop, we made some lovely little handmade soaps! We also sold coloured in pictures to the neighbours for 2p each. Those were the days!
Long summer days were spent in our big garden or out with the skates on. I was very clumsy and was never allowed rollerblades though Charlene had a set and we used one each despite her being 3sizes small than me, we made it work.
I spent alot of time baking with my Gran during holidays. We made delicious pancakes and fairy cakes were our speciality with me licking the remains from the bowl. I used to pop to my Grans for lunch from Primary school and by this point my Papa was unwell and bed bound. I used to take his French Toast up and he would shout "is that my wee doll?". He died shortly after and I still miss him to this day.
This is when my sister went off the rails. She got in with the wrong crowds and caused my parents endless grieve resulting in her being put in a childrens home. At 17 she fell pregnant and my parents forced her to terminate the baby threatening that she would never see me again if she didn't. I used to here them arguing, I was young but not stupid.
Despite this difficult few years, we did have reason to be happy. Both my parents working long hours afforded a holiday to Majorca nearly every year. Playing in the pool, going long walks and being dragged around every perfume store trying to find the cheapest bottles for my Nana was a regular occurance. The holidays were always fantastic and I was more fortunate than other children.
Day trips were few and far between but usually consisted of going on the train to Ayr and having fish and chips by the play park. We also went to Blackpool and to Berwick where my uncle had a caravan. Those were good times as my wee Granny came with us and spent loads of money on me!
I went to Sunday school for many years and would go in my Sunday best. At 15 I got bored and started avoiding it. I went to Brownies and Girls Brigade which were fun times.
I excelled in school and looked forward to trips. In Primary 6, we went away for 5days to an activity centre in Oban for walks, dry slope skiing and orienteering. It was the first time away from my parents and it was superb. In Primary 7, we went to London and went to see the Lion King and Starlight Express in the theatre. I remember my trips well.
Onto high school and I met a brand new set of friends. Unfortuantely most of them no longer stay in touch. We went to Paris in 2nd year and had a superb time at Disneyland.
I feel my childhood ended at 15 when I met my first proper boyfriend. He turned out to be an ass but this led to me to my now fiance and the father of my gorgeous son.
I have recently left college and am now a full time Mum. We might not have much money but I will do my upmost to give my son the life he deserves and all the good memories that I was blessed with.
Thanks for reading
I have numerous of things from my childhood in addition have also kept things from when my children's childhood so many in fact that my hubby and family class me as a hoarder ,
I don't mind as in a way it helps me reminisce them occasions, Photograph are favorable however possessing something to touch or smell is even better.
The earliest object from my childhood is a miniature duck teddy, it used to swing on the side of my silver-cross pram that my mum was so proud off, after 34 years you would figure it would be all tatty although it is not it is in rather a favorable condition.
I additionally have my baby teeth that i lost , furthermore that is something i have conducted with my children , i have 3 sets of baby teeth ready for when they are older, I just hope they will not be upset to learn that the tooth fairy did not exist
My mother still has all my school books and the various cards i made her from when i started school right up to leaving.
I also made her a tea cosy that she still uses to this day that i made in sewing class when i was 12 and it since to see it when i go to her house.
When i was around 13 -14 i bought my first single which i bought and would lay down my life for it , the single is by B.V,S.M.P called "I need you" and i recall going in to town buying it with my friends from the NAAFI in Germany where we were stationed as my dad was in the army at the time.
At around the same time we moved to Berlin this was just before the Wall came down and i still have my pass or I.D card that allowed me to pass from the east to the west ... That i shall treasure as to me it is a piece of history not just for myself but for generations to come.
Even the things they place on to your wrist when you go in to hospital you know the ones i mean with your name and date of birth, i have all of them , from when i have been admitted or the children, and sad to say i even have my gall stones , which for some reason i keep in my make up vanity case.
I do also posses cinema tickets , Letters from friends and various school ties, which in a way helps me regress especially the letters when people mention things we used to do , it is just nice to read them now and again to remind myself that i was not all sweetness and light.
when my children were born i then started to collect things for them too , this started basically as soon as they popped out.
When my eldest was born she was wrapped in a hospital towel , and i know it is cheeky but i claimed that towel and also the little gown they put her in, I did not just do this with my first born but also with the other two aswell, so i have 3 gowns and 3 towels all with the logo of the hospital on.
I know they will never be of any use again and they are not something you would have on display, but i guess in later life as my children have their own i can give them to them and tell them , how now and again i like to take them out of the draw and smell them ,it reminds me off the day they were born the stress my hubby was going through as he watched me in pain.
I know these are memories that would never go away and will live with me forever even if i did not have the items. but it also reminds me of how small they were and they still have a smell of Johnson's baby lotion on them.
For some unknown reason I have noticed that when you pack baby clothe's away and i must admit i have various items of them from their first babygro, first dress , bonnet blankets and shawls, that when i do get them out they always seem to hold that smell of Johnson's baby lotion or talc.either way it helps re-ignite the memories.
I have also got a nice collection of cereal boxes that resemble houses that my children made at nursery, though i do think they will eventually be disposed off in a few years as they are looking pretty battered, but i have photos of them.
I have also kept their "presents" The odd acorn or conker they found in the park on a day out, or their collection of favourite shells they have found at the beach, all may seem trivial to some people but to me they mean a lot.
I have their first pair of shoes, the clamp from the umbilical cord, i have such a collection their "First's" but i love them and do not think i could part with them.
Now the girls are getting older and i have started taking them to the cinema i have started to collect the tickets for them too ,
I do not think collecting the things will stop, and when they are older i shall give each of my children their things, I hope it gives them some sort of flash back to their childhood, I know things progress with time and attitudes change but i do hope they enjoy my little keepsakes that i have gathered for them over the years.
Writing this has made me realise that i do hoard a little more than most but these are tokens of love , either from my children to me or from me to my children ,
I guess i may be a big softy at heart or just to sentimental but these keepsake mean more than winning the lottery to me.
Everyone has some memories of there childhood.
Some you will cherish forever and some you would rather forget no doubt.
I have a fair few memory's both good and bad,so ill share a few good ones with you all
First thing i can remember is my second xmas, i got a little cooking set with apron and wooden spoon that kind of thing so i could help my mummy in the kitchen(not that i was really allowed,it ended up at nana's instead so i could help her) i loved it to bits.
A little flour man,made out of plastic he was black and white, i got the whole set.must have been one of those where you collected so many tokens or something like that ,that nana collected for me.
some story books and of course a new teddy bear
second- first day at nursery school :o( i screamed the place down it was awful. all i could see was my mum leaving me with all these people i didnt know.
I did eventually grown to like it though so wasnt too bad really.
Next up was either my 4th or 5th birthday i cant exactly remember which.
My granddad had bought me a big dolly that walked all by herself and she talked and sang too. she had an outfit just like mine and granddad even bought me a rocking chair that dolly could sit in at bedtime so she was ready to play the very next day and i could sit in the chair when dolly didnt want to.
poor dolly is a bit worse for wear now but then so is the rocking chair that i plan on having refurbished and passing onto my baby girl.
I remember going on holiday to butlins in skegness up until the age of about 7
with my mum,dad and 2 sisters.wasnt really much fun as i was never allowed on any of the rides and a donkey was about as thrilling as it got but a holiday was a holiday i suppose.
thats about all actually so not as much as i thought but enough to bring a smile to your face when looking back.
makes you wonder what our children will remember at our age looking back.
hopefully my little girls memory's will be alot better than mine were.
We all have some kind of childhood memorys, and most of us cling to the happiest ones, where we had no worries but what cartoon was on next and whether mum would give us money to go to the shop for sweets.
I was born in 1990, so at the moment I am 19. Looking back on my childhood there are some strange and wonderful memorys that come to me.
The first thing that I remember when I think about my childhood is Christmas, in my house like many other houses, was magical, I like many other children loved the fun and mystery around suprise presents and santa coming. Even now I become a big child around the Christmas period.
I also remember when I was 8, having a jumble sale with my friends, loads of my neighbours helped us out and came and bought the silly little bracelets we had made, breakfast cereal toys, and other ordaments and bubble baths etc. that had been donated, and making £15 each, we thought we were so rich, and blew all the money on sweets and magazines.
Another thing I quickly remember when I look back at my childhood is playing the Playstation with my friends, Tombraider was one of those games that stands out in my childhood, as I was addicted to it at a stage. We also hung out at eachothers houses and watched Nickoleon alot, there were so many great shows, Rugrats and Hey Arnold being the favourite and memorys in those days.
When I think about sweets in my childhood, the first thing I think of is the ice cream van that used to come around our estate, once I saved up all my pocket money and bought loads of those cheap bubble gum that come in screwball ice creams, blew a massive bubble with them and it stuck so badly to my face I was picking it away for at least a week! I dont think I have ever blew a bubble with chewing gum ever since.
After these memorys the discovery of boys has taken over my computer playing, bubble blowing days, meeting my current boyfriend at the age of 13, and growing up with him is one of my more special memorys, as we have had some great times, and I am sure there will be plenty more.
I have some very good childhood memories, and I also have, I wouldnt called them bad memories, but one's that I would rather not remember. I think that my first earliest memory was when I was about three years old on a day trip to the beach at blackpool. Although I cant remember much about it, I can remember splashing about in the sea. Another memory of mine is when My uncle got married and I was his page boy. I had to wear my very suit, which I didnt like very much, as I can clearly remember screaming in the church and throwing my jacket on the floor, much to the disaproval of my parents.
One memory I would like to forget was when I was nine years old, and my best friend died in a car accident. This was my very first funeral, and it is a moment in my life that I will never forget, and in a way it was a point in my life when I started to realise that things werent as rosey as my parents and every one around me made it out to be. From then on my childhood innocence went on a downward spiral.
Children can remember a lot, more than we realise, which is why I try my best to make sure that my kids has the best childhood that they could possibly have. I dont like looking into the past and remembering horrible times, and I know that I dont want that to happen with my children. I love thinking about my childhood, it was a great time in my life, and if I had a choice, I would go back and do it all over again.
It was a glorious summer morning in August 1967, the so-called Summer of Love. Hippies with flowers in their hair were cheerfully making asses of themselves in San Francisco, American jets were dropping industrial amounts of heavy ordnance on North Vietnam, Engelbert Humperdink was top of the 'Hit Parade', Thunderbirds were 'Go' and the five-year-old me was making his way to school for the very first time. With me on that country lane leading into a small Scottish village were my mum, cousin Hattie (also five) and her mum, Auntie Jean.
It was to be my first taste of formal education and I was excited by the prospect. There had been no nursery school for me, no pre-school prepping, just five years of being a little kid, happy and contented and loved. We lived in a big old farmhouse surrounded by a big old farm. There was Mum and Dad, my three older brothers, one older sister, a couple of dogs and an army of cats. Dad was a farmer (naturally) and Mum did just about everything else; yet she always seemed to have plenty of time to be there whenever we wanted her. She just did what she did without any fuss or bother, and always with a smile. It was a time before parenting was sub-contracted out to the State and people seemed to manage just fine. Amazing, really!
I had spent my pre-school days just running wild in the fields and woods and often sitting on my dad's knee in one of his tractors whilst he roared along the lanes or thundered across muddy fields. Sometimes he would even let me steer (It was also a time before the phrase 'Health and Safety' assumed Orwellian connotations). I loved riding in tractors, mainly because I was something of a pint-sized tractor aficionado. We had Fords, big shiny and blue with white wheels, although my favourite tractors were the electric-green John Deeres, but in those days such machines were like Ferraris: only for the wealthy and almost never seen. "Do you think I'm made of money?" was always my dad's cheerful answer to my regularly-asked question.
Hattie, my cousin mentioned above, was just a week younger than me, and as her family (our respective dads were brothers) lived just along the road, we had been thrown together from day one. I didn't much like Hattie and she didn't much like me, but we knew each other well, and on that summer morning we were about to be classmates as well as cousins.
So there we were, the four of us, ambling happily along the lane. I was out front, eager and impatient, whilst the mums chatted like mums did, and still do. Hattie sauntered along behind. I was sparkling like a new pin, my Clarks shoes gleaming impressively and my new leather school-bag slung over my shoulders. I have no idea what was in it; probably just an apple for playtime and a pencil or two; I can't remember. Everything was just fine... and then it happened.
We were progressing steadily, the village school getting ever nearer, when... GULP, an odd noise behind me. I turned round to see Hattie standing still and rigid in the middle of the lane and my Aunt Jean bending over her, concerned. "What's the matter Hattie?"
We watched as Hattie's expression ran the gamut of emotions from surprise to shock, from horror to despair. Tears began to form in her eyes and then came an explosion of snot as she burst out crying. Great sobs shook her small frame and both adults were now anxiously cuddling her, eager to know what the problem was. I was unconcerned-but-curious, and, like the adults, was waiting for an explanation.
My Aunt Jean again asked, "Hattie sweetie, what's wrong?"
Hattie slowly managed to get control of the rending sobs. She breathed heavily a couple of times, looked to the heavens then wailed to no-one in particular, "I swallowed a FLY!" She again burst into tears.
I did what most small boys would have done and burst out laughing, only to be silenced by a frown from my mum, who most probably felt like laughing herself but, being a grown-up, had the sense to know that there's a time and a place for laughter and this wasn't one of them.
After much application of sympathy and handkerchiefs Hattie recovered sufficiently enough to allow us to resume our journey, the rest of which consisted of buzzing sounds from me, admonishments from my mum and filthy looks aimed at me from Hattie. I didn't care; girls were just stupid.
When we arrived at the village school there was a hubbub in the playground as children and parents mingled and teachers organised. Some children were in tears, not wanting to be left, but the teachers shooed away concerned mums with practiced words of consolation: "Off you go now. Little so and so will be just fine. Off you go." And so a herd of hesitant mums, mine included, were ushered to the gate and, after a final collective backward glance at their little darlings, were gone.
I remember just two things about that first day in the classroom: Miss Taylor, our teacher, and her little Pekinese dog that sat under her table. Miss Taylor (they all seemed to be Misses in those days) was an elderly woman and that year would be her last before retirement (she lived well into her nineties). She had taught my older siblings so I was well known to her. As we were directed to our ancient wooden desks (not without some confusion) we were all invited by Miss T to pat Toto, her dog, as we passed the table. If truth be told, it was an ugly little monster but we patted away obligingly and I remember asking whether I could bring MY dog to school. The answer was a brusque "certainly not". It was the first lesson I ever learned at school: Life isn't fair. I also asked Miss T if she was interested in tractors but the same brusque answer was delivered. I also noted from her expression that an interest was unlikely to develop in the near future so I let the matter drop.
And that was the start of thirteen years of education. Many things happened to me during that period and many changes occurred. At the beginning I was a carefree (and cheeky) little boy in the Swinging 60s and by the end I was a surly smart-assed yobbo interested only in girls and music. But it's only when we look back do we realise how happy we were at certain times. I took happiness for granted in 1967, never thinking for one moment that our family's rural idyll was in any way threatened. Only when Dad died of cancer two years later did I realise that life can be a sore trial that we all just have to undergo without excuse. That is what makes us what we are. Mum sold the farm and we moved to a large town where, throughout the 70s, I slowly grew up. And as the years slowly fell away I found myself middle-aged and pensive: me here, right now.
And how far away that August morning seems, yet I can still picture it clearly: the sunshine, Hattie's fly, Toto and, above all, the excitement of it all. I'm not usually a nostalgic person, yet memories are what we are all about. They are what drive us forwards and hold us back. We are, quite simply, our past. And mine, in that golden summer of 1967 at least, was a nice place to be.
Let me tell you some of my childhood memories.
I was born in 1954 in a small village just on the border of Liverpool and Lancashire. Fields and woods surrounded us. As children we wandered far and wide, nobody seemed to worry about where we were unless we didn't turn up for meals.
My Dad worked for the railway at that time and we lived in the Railway Cottages, there were eight or ten of them down a long cinder track off the main village street.
My first memory is of wading in the brook in my new yellow shorts. We were picking water cress for our mums. I was very small, just going on three. I remember falling over backwards and just lying there looking up through the water and thinking I would be in trouble for wetting my new shorts. I must have inhaled the water and passed out because the next thing I knew I was upside down and someone was pressing hard on my tummy. A long way away I could hear my Mum and Nana screaming and shouting. I thought it was because I had ruined my shorts and would get my bottom smacked!
Later on when everyone had calmed down and I had been bathed and put into my nightie I said to my Dad I was sorry that Mum had been upset by me falling in the brook and ruining my clothes. My Dad said that wasn't why she was upset. He said she was upset because she thought I had gone to Heaven. I apparently became a bit indignant at this and said "No, I told her I was going to go to get watercress not to Heaven!" My Mum started laughing and crying again, I went to sleep thinking that grown ups were strange.
I ran away on my tricycle one night because I didn't want a bath. A lorry driver, arrested by the sight of a naked four year old pedalling furiously, brought me back before I had been missed!
My Dad got a new job and we moved to another house not far away. The kids were all playing hide and seek whilst my Mum and Dad packed. I was hiding when one of my friends told me to come out because my Mum and Dad were ready to leave. I wouldn't come out because I thought it was a trick to find me. I didn't half get told off by my Dad when I finally emerged!
I went to school at a very early age. I had been sat on the counter of the village shop when a tall man came in and said hello to me. My mum was getting something off the shelves. I said to the man "I can read!" He said "I don't think so Little One!" and laughed. I insisted that I could read and he held up a newspaper in front of me and told me to read it. I read out "Car factory plans in Halewood." He turned to my Mum and said. "She's ready, bring her in on Monday." My Mum agreed.
Of course, nobody actually explained to me where I was going on Monday, so I spent a fairly worried weekend. I was three and a half years old.
I remember being walked into a room of about twentyfive children nearly all of whom I knew. I was given a little seat which I was delighted with. I was sat near a big round stove which was lovely and warm. It had a pair of navy blue knickers drying on it. I later learned that if you wet yourself you had to wash your knickers under the tap and put them on the stove to dry. My friend in the next seat told me so. I crossed my legs tight.
School was wonderful. The teachers loved us and made everything exciting. They made me want to learn and made it easy for me to do so. The Headmaster, who I had met previously in the shop, was very strict but very fair.
He got knocked out once by one of the bigger girls who threw her bat behind her when the school were playing rounders. While the other two teachers were bringing the Headmaster round, we were busy telling the offending girl that the police were going to put her in prison for killing Mr Roby! Guess whose knickers ended up drying on the stove that day!
When the headmaster eventually sat up he had a huge lump on his forehead. He fished a sweet out of his pocket and handed it to the would be assassin who was crying noisily. "Do try to keep hold of the bat next time." was all he said to her. Then he sent one of us off to make him a cup of tea.
Because it was such a small school we were all mixed together a lot of the time. I had learned to read very early by sitting in on my Dad trying to teach my brother his letters. My brother hated books. I was deemed to have "precocious language skills" so when we were split up I was always put with the older and larger pupils. A school inspector came in one day and having heard us all read etc, declared to the whole class that they must be particularly careful at playtimes to not knock over the dwarf by playing roughly. He smiled at me when he said this. I looked around and I couldn't see a dwarf anywhere. I was quite excited because in my young mind, if there was a dwarf about, Snow White might be here too. I was disappointed to find out that I was the 'dwarf' that he referred to! The teacher put him right and he apologised but I ended up being called the dwarf for years by my horrible big brother.
My Nana saw a note from the Headmaster to my parents that talked about my 'precocious language skills' and she slapped me round my legs because she thought the note meant I had been swearing! (It seems that her language skills weren't precocious enough!)
The school was built of red sandstone and stood next to the church. There was a large yard and a field at the back. At the back of the yard were coal sheds and the toilets. They were the kind of toilets with a wooden board with two holes in side by side. As a little girl I thought that the idea of two people going to the toilet together was very, very, very rude! I didn't realise that the larger hole was for any adult using the loo.
The coalsheds had bright blue doors. I accidentally locked myself in them one day. The Vicar came every Tuesday morning to catechise us, for some reason I was terrified of him. I hid from him in the coal shed and the wind blew the door shut. By the time I was found I was completely black! The headmaster stood me in the sink, stripped me off and with the help of one of the older girls washed me down. A perfectly innocent act which he would probably get arrested for nowadays!
On the first of June every year we all had to climb up one of the oak trees on the school field and hide. Why? Because it was "Oak apple day" of course! A king, (I think it was Charles I ) hid from his enemies in an oak tree and that is what we were celebrating! None of us ever fell out of the trees. I don't know how! After we had succesfully hidden and then climbed down we all drank a toast to the Oak Tree. In lemonade! Happy Days!
May meant Maypole dancing which I loved. We spent most of April practising The children who were too big or too clumsy to dance got to sit on the base of the pole, to hold it steady whilst we cavorted round trying not to strangle ourselves or each other with the long ribbons. We performed our dances at the May Fair. Everyone in the village took part. It seemed like that anyway. If our parents had know that we were all dancing an ancient fertility dance they probably would have fainted!
September meant that many of us would have days off to bring the potato harvest in. You couldn't help until you were eight years and how I envied those who were old enough to go and pick potatoes. When I started picking I was given a 'brat' to wear (a hessian apron) which you held gathered in one hand and threw the spuds in with the other. I felt so grown up and uesful. Most of the kids were allowed to keep the money they earned and I was no exception. I saved my sixpences until I had enough to buy my Mum and Dad some chocolates in a big blue and yellow box. I was so proud. My Dad took the ribbon off the box and put it in my hair. I still have it.
As I grew older the village expanded until it wasn't really a village anymore. The school was swamped with new children from the towns and they seemed very aggressive to us. It was silly really because we had all been brought up on healthy food and work and we towered over the townie kids. We had been tought not to fight and they thought we were 'softies'.
All Hell broke out for a while. Funnily enough, what seemed to sort a lot of the division out was the potato picking. I think the newcomers saw the sheer strength needed. After they tried and mostly failed to keep up with us on the fields, an uneasy truce held.
Looking back it was a real clash of cultures. Liverpool City Planners had decided that Halewood was the ideal place to build overspill housing and the village was swamped physically and culturally. Our fields and woods started to disappear, houses sprang up, our little safe school tripled in size.
Doors had to be locked and my freedom to wander was curtailed.
I had an idyllic childhood really. It felt like I was watched over by everyone, fed in whoever's house I happened to be, chastened by any adult if I was naughty. I think as in most small villages that the adults had a sense of joint responsibility for the kids and each other.
I always had enough to do or be involved with. It wasn't perfect and some very bad things happened to me, overall though I was supported and kept safe whilst I explored and learned and grew. I was very lucky to have that.
Some childhood memories tend to stay with you for the whole of your life and certainly do shape the type of person that you turn out like in later life, these collective experiences combining together to influence your outlook on life and how you develop relationships.
Not all of my childhood is packed with happy memories but I prefer to recall the good ones as much as possible and not to dwell on the less pleasant memories.
One of my favourite games when I was growing up was to play dressing up games, luckiy my step mother was into the performing arts and she had done a little stage acting and for some reason had a pretty big wardrobe of clothes that she had acquired over the years hence my friends and I were never short of things to try on even if the items dwarfed us, as well s loads of clothes she also had loads of accessories like stage jewellry and a big hat collection, she never minded us trying them on no mater how much mess we made.
I also remember going on long bike rides when I was in my early teens, my two best friends would always come along and we would take food to eat, some how the summers seemed hotter in those days or maybe we justgot lucky on the days we went out.
For me dressing up and long bike rides are probably the two stand out memories of my childhood.
When people say that their school days or their childhood were the best days of their lives I think that is a little sad, sure when you are having to work for a living and worrying over paying the bills and making ends meet you have a lot of worries and those idyllic summer days spent doing fun stuff as a child can be seen through rose tinted glasses but I like to think that I have many more great times ahead of me.
My main memory as a child i of spending summers with my grand parents as both my parents worked long hours so we would spend the time with them as children, they had a reasonably large house in the Warwickshire countryside, big enough that we all had our own room and I used to love exploring the dusty old attic which was crammed full of things from their past.
In the local area there were plenty of places to explore and I used to love playing in the woods with my brother and cousins who were a similar age, we would build dens and make plans to sleep in them at night, plans we never dared follow through, there was lots of wildlife to see and it was a lovely unspolit area, today it depresses me that parts of the wood have been lost to a golf course whose manicured fairways are just as environmentally damaging and ugly as building a housing estate in my opinion, an environmental tax on golfers would be a big vote winner for me.
Definately a happy childhood but just as important a happy adult life with plenty of good memories to be created.
Whilst growing up I never appreciated my childhood. At every stage I wanted to bigger or older, and like almost all of my friends, I was never truly satisfied where I currently was. It is only now I look back that I really appreciate how good childhood was and what a great job my parents did in bringing up me and my two sisters.
For me childhood was a time where I could do what I wanted to when I wanted to (well within reason and set down parameters). There were no stresses and worries and the days rolled in to each other. All the important and 'grown up' things were dealt with by my parents, and it is only now I appreciate what they had to go through and the sacrifices that they made to ensure that we (my sisters and I were happy).
I didn't have to worry about earning money to pay off a mortgage, bills, heating, clothing and putting food on the table. That was the job of my parents. The only money issues I had were trying to extract it out of my parents in order to buy sweets down the local shop. The penny chews were what we used to go for with a battle to get the white mice, strawberries and cola bottles since these always sold first and the shop keeper never got a new order in until all the penny chews had gone.
Extracting money out of mum was easy, well I was mummy's little soldier. Dad, on the other hand, that was a totally different ball game. He used to make us work, and hard for it. Nowadays it would be referred to as slave labour. Stacking fire wood (whilst he was chopping it), clearing the hedge cuttings (whilst he was cutting it), bathing the dog after he had walked it. All this hard work and we would get around 20p. One thing he would never let us do is cut the grass, and it is the same to this day. It is his pride and joy and the stripes are almost as good as those at Norwich City Football ground.
During the early years of my childhood the Japanese were still designing the game consoles we all know and love, although there were some computers about. These included the Commodore 16, Commodore 64 and the Spectrum. During that time I never really took an interest as the tapes used to take so long to load up I got bored waiting.
Our entertainment involved the countryside. I now realise how lucky I was living right in the back end of nowhere. Parents were happy to let their children go outside in the knowledge that we would only be a maximum 15 minute walk/10 minute bike ride from home, there was no chance of being run down (well only by a tractor and we could hear these coming a mile off and out run them on foot), and that if we did anything wrong one of the other villagers would verbally tell us off and inform our parents who would then take matters further if required.
Living right beside the Weavers Way (an old railway line which ran from Cromer to Great Yarmouth which was closed down years and years ago) meant that we had plenty of stomping ground to investigate. There are loads of trees and wooded areas so making tree houses and dens took up a lot of our time. Once made there would then be a battle to try and take the den of another group, usually ending up in tears. It was all good fun though.
I can remember my uncle giving me a fishing rod when I was around 6 and I got the angling bug. A 10 minute walk away from my parents house is the River Ant. In its heyday it used to have barges drawn along it by horses, working locks at the various mills and be a transport system. This form of transportation died out and the industry finished. Barges stopped using the river, the locks closed down, the tow paths became overgrown and weed consumed the river making it very narrow. This is the only way I have known it although I have seen pictures of it in it's hey day. Anyway, I got in to fishing and from then on I spent my life down by the river, mainly sitting on Honing Lock wall fishing, where eels, roach, perch, pike, ruff, minnows, gudgeon and chub were plentiful.
I also look back at two of the three schools I went to with fond memories. The only thing I can remember about primary school is the water tank, the reading corner with loads of big orange cushions that smelt really old and damp and the turtle which was controlled by the computer (you stuck a pen in the turtle, typed in a computer program, hit return and the turtle would then move on its merry way drawing a trail as it went.)
I enjoyed school and was good at it. I was bullied, I think everyone is to a certain extent, although mine wasn't long term or over anything really specific. I was good at school and worked hard, I had a thirst for knowledge and was always asking questions, despite this I still had many friends. I definitely was not the most popular person but I wasn't left alone for being a geek either. The group I was in consisted of many different individuals some were really bright, some liked football, some hated it, some were ravers, some were indie boys. We were all so different but all gelled really well. I think it is this that has given me my open mindedness and general respect for all different types of people. If we were all the same the world would be a boring place.
I appreciate that some people did not enjoy their childhood as much as I enjoyed mine and for that I do feel sorry for them. Your school days are meant to be the best of your life, and I can honestly say that to a certain extent mine were.
Now I am saddled with a mortgage, think about work all the time, worry about the when the next bill is going to arrive, worry about maintaining and running a property, worry about the state of the economy, worry about what is going to happen next. This is just the stress of being an adult in the modern world and I know that I am not the only one with these issues. Bearing this in mind and thinking about my childhood I know where I would rather be.
I have loads of great childhood memories and loads of sad ones, But I have long discovered that you need to not waste time on concentrating on the bad experiences and memories and look to the future and remember all the good times, so here our my top ten childhood memories....hope you like them.
1. Fighting over the radio and TV times at xmas.
Every Christmas my mum and dad would buy these magazines, as did most families I know, we would then sit as a family and circle all our favourites to be watched over Xmas and New Year.... You know the type...only fools and horses specials..... ab fab specials...stars in your eyes, family fortunes....god there are loads I can remember arguing about with my family, but the funny thing is this tradition in my family still has not died out, even though I have cable and can easily look at a guide, at xmas I still buy the magazines, I suppose its just nostalgia that makes me do it...but I know the rest of my family do it as well.
2. Picking strawberries and vegetables from my granddads allotment
My granddad used to have a huge piece of land next to his house when I was really young, he sold it to the council and they put two houses on it when I was about 12...they offered him loads of money, and he was retiring so he took them up on the offer, but some of my happiest memories are from helping him look after the vegetables and especially the strawberries, he used to let me eat them without washing them...so silly..but id never let my kids do that!!! But you just did not care in those days.... My granddad says that modern mums worry too much about germs...I suppose he's right, it did me no harm.
We would pick the apples from his apple trees and the rhubarb and then nan would let me help her make apple and rhubarb crumble.
3. Library visits with my aunty
Each week my aunty would take me to the library with her, it was to give my mum a break as there was four of us running around and also I always close to my aunty, she had no children of her own, so I was like her practise child..hehe!!
Anyway, we would go in and sit for hours sometimes reading and reading, she would always take us up a flask of earl grey tea and those garibaldi biscuits...... was the place were I always felt safe and happy.
I can remember loving Judy Blume books one time and reading the whole of the fudge book in one visit to the library.
We would also go on the computer as well which I found great fun, as in those days not everybody could afford a pc at home and we defiantly could not, so I always felt quite excited to go on the computer and search for books I wanted to read.
4. Foreign exchange students
From as long as I can remember my mum and dad used to be host family to many different nationalities of exchange students. It was great as growing up I met many people from all different countries and culture and made some really good friends.
But the one that sticks out in my memory the most is Christophe the creep!!!! I was eleven years old and we had a student called Christophe who was 13 years old and was staying with us for two weeks, he actually locked me in my bedroom one day and chased me round my room trying to give me a kiss!!!!! In the end my mum heard me scream from outside where she was hanging the washing out and ran in and saved me.... She called the leader of the organisation and he was sent on the first ferry back to France..... Now when I think back it's quite funny.... As he was saying..."Kelly ...I love you ...please kiss me....!!!! "
My family still laugh about this, because as I got slightly older I would have jumped at the chance as whenever we did have some French, Spanish, Italian etc boys come to stay, I often ended up fancying them..... My mum and dad then started to specify they only have girl students!!! Spoilt sports!!!
5. The pop man and the chip van
I'm not sure if anyone else had this, but we used to have a man that came round in a sort of a milk float thing and sell pop, we used to then save the bottles and give them back each week....I can remember we'd have cream soda and dandelion and burdock...yummy!!!
Then on a Thursday there was a mobile chip shop in a van that would come round with a huge annoying hooter that would sound as he entered your street, everyone would run out to get there sausage in batter and chips...yum yum!!
Why do we not have things like this anymore?????
6. Some of the TV programs
I can remember so many programs that we loved, like highway to heaven, bullseye, catchphrase, a team, he man, she-ra, the fraggles, last of the summer wine, price is right..... God I could go on and on.
One that stands out in my mind the most is terrahawks...I swear I am still scared of that evil witch women in it!!!!
7. 10p mix bags
My Nan on a Saturday would give me and my sister ten pence and we'd go down the shop and get a mixed bag, you'd get a little paper bag and I can remember cola bottles being ½ a pence each or sometimes we'd have ten pence worth of sherbet!!!! God if I gave my kids ten pence now....what would they get??? Not a lot!!! If anything!! Hahaha!!! It makes me feel sooooo old !!!!
8. Beano comics
I loved beano comics and would often get treated to one from my granddad, my favourite character was mini minx, I can also remember being so chuffed whenever there was a free gift on the front like a wham bar or highland toffee bar!!! Some lovely things to rot the teeth!!!
9. The music I liked!!!
I loved Aha, Roxette and Rick Astley, they are the more earlier ones I can remember, I can remember one of the first albums I had was Roxettes Joyride ....it came with the lyrics inside the cover of the LP, I memorised every single word to it must have been love !!!! How sad!!!
10. The laughs with my family
We were a big family, I am the oldest of four, and my mum is the youngest of 6, my dad is the oldest of 4....so I had loads of family around me at all times, I met all great grandparents and up until last year I had all my grandparents alive also..... So I have loads of really lovely memories of times with cousins and grandparents, mum and dad, sister and brothers for e.g. silly family holidays when dad fell in the canal, when the xmas tree set a light, when Nan burnt her eye brows, when my sister wet herself from laughing too much, when mums underskirt fell down at a funeral, my uncle singing rugby songs, watching my uncle when he played for notts county and my cousin when he played for cov city, listening to my mum and her friends gossip over the fence, my Nan getting locked in the outside loo!!!! God I could go on forever with memories.....
These are some of the fondest memories I have, there are loads more and it's silly the ones you keep dear, the smells you remember, the conversations you have, but I think everyone is the same.