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Childhood Memories

Well, those of us who, when it was raining and therefore not cycling, used the Midland Red. We were used to a more orderly exit from the bus. ;)
 
Elmdon Boy said:
I remember jumping off the back on those open platforms as a kid.
I was on the No 60 coming from town . I was due to get off at the traffic light at the Wheatsheaf on the A45 just after it turned left into Sheaf Lane. The bus had to stop at the traffic lights so I thought 8 would get off early. Just as I started to disembark the bus started to move and I went sprawling in the gravel just outside the old Woolworths.
Nothing worse than grazed knees, which just added to all the other scabby knees we boys all seem to have in them days with our short pants.
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No Spitting. No Singing. I saw those in a Dublin pub. I remember spitoons and one of nan's old neighbours Alice took snuff. And it used to run. Bluuurgh!
 
Radiorails said:
I was plagued with chilblains in wintertime when young - puberty onwards. Once I left Warwickshire (aged 16) I never have had them again'
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Mum said I would get chilblains. She did. I always sat on top of the fire, my pullover was singing and my back was freezing.
 
My Mum was really strict in somethings .In our street all the kids played outside when possible. I was one of the youngest in the road.
We had a lamp post outside of our house.Which in the summer it was used for cricket stumps. My Mother often when she was fed up with the noise or the kids hanging around would go and shout go and play down your own end. Thinking about it we are only talking 10 to 15 houses away but the lamp post and our house had 2 corners opposite which was the end of another road so allowing more freedom to hit runs.
 
Recyling a memory ... :cool:
oldMohawk said:
Every September in the 1940's the 'firecan season' started. We would find tin cans and pierce lots of holes in them and fix long wire loops to our cans so they could be swung overhead. Small sticks and pieces of coal were put in the cans and set alight. The cans were then vigorously swung over and over and the rush of air got a real good blaze going as we tried to make our cans glow hotter than anyone else. Occasionally a wire loop would break with the can flying off and everyone would have to dodge the mass of hot coals scattered everywhere. I don't remember any of our parents stopping us but there were no shiny cars parked in our road in those days. The season only lasted about a week, we probably got tired of hot coals dropping on us. Thinking back it all seems daft - maybe it was the war affecting us !
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Playing cricket in the street one of the lads (later my brother in law) hit a six right through the window of the house opposite, he straight away went over to the house knocked the door and apologised and said he would pay for the window.
Mr Kelly the house tenant thanked him and told him to forget it.
 
When I cycled to work in the late 50s I had to be in at 7-00am.used to start fromGlebe Farm at6-30 used to get to Southalls at Alum Rock after following a bus from the Pelham.From Southalls I would hold the platform pole to pull me up the hill.What a relief when we got to the Grand Cinema at Alum Rock
 
oldMohawk said:
Recyling a memory ... :cool:
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I returned to my home, south of the city, aged five in 1942. I was warned - repeated over the next few years - not to touch or kick any metal objects I saw lying around. I was never, knowingly, told why, but a stern warning was sufficient.
 
Smudger said:
Remember the sign at the front of the bus "No Spitting " Wouldn`t be very nice if someone did spit. :eek: Also on the old buses was a open platform for getting on & off, & we nutcases would see who could jump off furthest from the bus stop. Took a tumble many a times.:cold_sweat:
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And don't forget standing up stairs on the bus so you could get and out of the rain! It always seem to rain on a Saturday after the pubs closed while I was waiting for the 29 (I think) to take me to Handsworth from Snow Hill. I hope I have that right.
 
Diane1947 said:
My Mum was really strict in somethings .In our street all the kids played outside when possible. I was one of the youngest in the road.
We had a lamp post outside of our house.Which in the summer it was used for cricket stumps. My Mother often when she was fed up with the noise or the kids hanging around would go and shout go and play down your own end. Thinking about it we are only talking 10 to 15 houses away but the lamp post and our house had 2 corners opposite which was the end of another road so allowing more freedom to hit runs.
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Did your lampost have a sort of crossbar under the lamp.? Some poorer streets had parcel twine hanging off the kids used to swing around. We had a verge of sort of reddish shale like they play boules on abroad. With trees, We did good skiddies on it on our bikes. And scooters.We also drew pictures in the jitty as Black Country great gran called it in the cinders and dirt. Made round coralls for our marlies in the dirt. I thought of it as clean dirt, if that makes sense!
 
Kicking cans in the streets was something I was always told was a sign of the death of someone in the immediate area and as such was frowned upon. Consequently I have never done it. What you learn when young usually frames your adulthood.
 
Nico said:
My mum used to play this. In the 40s.And something called kick the can.
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Nico said:
My mum used to play this. In the 40s.And something called kick the can.
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Yes the lamppost had a crossbar just under the lamp. We had a pavement then dirt which sometimes we dug a hole and played marbles. If my memory serves me right you the first one to pot a marble in the hole them could aim at other marbles and if hit you won them.
Going back to thevents lampost any sign of swinging or a rope tied on it my Mother would be out like a flash. She took no prisoners.
 
Nico said:
My mum used to play this. In the 40s.And something called kick the can.
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We played "Kick the Can" on the waste ground behind the three storey flats between the street and the park (King George V Playing fields) A variation of hide and seek whereby a can was placed on the ground and the person who was "on" counted to 500 in fives whilst all the others ran and hid. Then it followed the usual format of Hide and Seek but with this proviso. Someone who hadn't been found could come out of hiding and before being discovered by the seeker KICK the Can and thereby release all those who had been found and they were free to go and hide again. If however the seeker beat the one who was attempting to free the others and he or she kicked the can first everyone was deemed to be found and a new game commenced. It was also known as Curry Curry but for what reason I don't know.
 
I recall the cross bar on the lampost. There for the gas lamp man who would call round on his bike, ladder over the shoulder. He would wind the clock up, clean the glass and replace any mantles that were damaged.

The cross bars were great for us kids. Tie a rope to it for a Tarzan swing. I stood on one once and threaded a bike over the lamp, and left it on the ground with the lampost through the centre of the frame.
 
Radiorails said:
Kicking cans in the streets was something I was always told was a sign of the death of someone in the immediate area and as such was frowned upon. Consequently I have never done it. What you learn when young usually frames your adulthood.
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alan when someone dies ive heard the expression kicked the bucket but never the can lol

lyn
 
My Nanny was a Nanny. I never, knowingly, saw my grandparents - then only fathers family - until I was nine. My mother was no longer around, father in the Army, so this lady cared for me from five to ten years old. My wife might say "that explains it all". :laughing:
 
Radiorails said:
My Nanny was a Nanny. I never, knowingly, saw my grandparents - then only fathers family - until I was nine. My mother was no longer around, father in the Army, so this lady cared for me from five to ten years old. My wife might say "that explains it all". :laughing:
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"that explains it all" a wise woman:joy:
 
Radiorails said:
My Nanny was a Nanny. I never, knowingly, saw my grandparents - then only fathers family - until I was nine. My mother was no longer around, father in the Army, so this lady cared for me from five to ten years old. My wife might say "that explains it all". :laughing:
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That's very sad Radiorails. I had 4 grannies too. And a great great auntie who was like a granny. Nan, gran, granny and great gran. (2 Greats) Gran said they had to be shot in their family as they refused to die. Nan would snort and bosom heave knowingly saying "yowm can tell them uz iz granny reared coz theym brought up proper.
 
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