mw0njm.
A Brummie Dude
we get trick or treat's. thats all's. There was a charity run santa,that the kids loved. his sled was towed with a 155 hp green John deere reindeer. but sadly stopped.due to lack of funds
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Childhood Memories
- Thread starter sistersue61
- Start date
sospiri
GONE BUT NOT FORGOTTEN
Here in a rural Cretan village, we don't have so many young children as we did 15 years ago - they've all grown into adults and at least one has married and has babies of her own. But we still have three or four about 13 to 14 years old who dress up for Hallowe'en or who sing door to door. Always well behaved, so we are quite happy to give them a few euros. We like village life and everybody is very friendly, even it we can't communicate that well - their English is generally non-existent apart from teens who study it at school, and our Greek is not exactly what you would call fluent! 
Maurice
Maurice
Richard Dye
master brummie
Always had my bike!
mw0njm.
A Brummie Dude
Last edited:
mw0njm.
A Brummie Dude
when i left school.i worked at BSA. and had to cycle from Aston.rain or snow.i would grab a tow if i could
Radiorails
master brummie
I cycled, for six months, three days a week, from near Shirley to Bordesley Green. I never used buses as it would have meant two different routes to get there - one from near home and the Inner Circle 8, but that mean a walk from Muntz Street. and at the age of fifteen, costly. The other two days were at Bournville when I took the bus there. One from near home and the 11 Outer Circle, from Hall Green. The return journey was cheaper as the GPO provided transport which dropped me off at Digbeth, which meant just one bus ride and fare.
My first job in Devon was located between Paignton and Torquay which also meant a near ten mile ride - and Devon is very hilly. However I was a fit cyclist at the time.
My first job in Devon was located between Paignton and Torquay which also meant a near ten mile ride - and Devon is very hilly. However I was a fit cyclist at the time.
Lady Penelope
master brummie
Just out of interest, in Brum do you still get carol singers knocking on your door? What about trick or treaters or penny for the guy? We haven`t had any of those in a long while. Just more traditions dying out.
Smudger, we haven't had carol singers for quite a while. I'm not sure if today's children know carols as well as we did as some schools don't have assemblies any more. No penny for the guy either. However, I had quite a few trick or treaters this year, some small children with their parents and a couple of young men with a great sense of humour. They were Asian and on their way back from the gym. I told them they were too big for trick or treating so they promptly knelt on my step! Needless to say they didn't go away empty handed. This year I didn't buy sweets and gave everyone clementines.
Richard Dye
master brummie
Lady Penelope, I think you are absolutely correct! I remember carol services at school where I sang in the choir at the local church. I was a three night affair1 In the US there is little in the way or carol services, some churches have them but not many. We leave near Nashville so our church has beautiful music all year long.....
wendylee
master brummie
Hi Nico, the Salvation army always came in the local pub we frequented when we were younger, and I loved hearing them sing. there were also bell ringers which sounded great at Christmas. My kids were both in the nativity plays at school , still have the photos, my daughter was an angel and my son a shepherd. We never had a christmas without a tin of Quality Street too haha Ah the school christmas parties. You have some wonderful memories Nico
thanks for reminding me of some of mine. WendyRobert Ensor (bob)
master brummie
So as I am reading this I remember the last coming round selling cockells in the pubHi Nico, the Salvation army always came in the local pub we frequented when we were younger, and I loved hearing them sing. there were also bell ringers which sounded great at Christmas. My kids were both in the nativity plays at school , still have the photos, my daughter was an angel and my son a shepherd. We never had a christmas without a tin of Quality Street too haha Ah the school christmas parties. You have some wonderful memories Nico
Not that I was ever drinking underage.
Robert Ensor (bob)
master brummie
Never noticed before but that kid was carrying enough bread for a village or at least Christmas.
mw0njm.
A Brummie Dude
i remember years ago some children went to my sister's house. trick or treat. one was a bit gobby
.waving a bag. so my sister put some items in the bag.some items were catfood sashays
mw0njm.
A Brummie Dude
wendylee
master brummie
Love that old ad
oldMohawk
gone but not forgotten
I remember when three of us all under the age of ten went carol singing by houses some distance from where we lived and after we had sung three carols the door opened and we were curtly told to clear off. We went back to the pavement and a women standing there said she had stopped and enjoyed listening and gave us a shilling each ...
Radiorails
master brummie
I guess you were unaware that you mistakenly called where Scrooge lived?I remember when three of us all under the age of ten went carol singing by houses some distance from where we lived and after we had sung three carols the door opened and we were curtly told to clear off. We went back to the pavement and a women standing there said she had stopped and enjoyed listening and gave us a shilling each ...
mw0njm.
A Brummie Dude
could have been worse, she could have done a noraI guess you were unaware that you mistakenly called where Scrooge lived?
Radiorails
master brummie
Visiting a neighbour on Christmas Eve, who has young children, I noticed that all the presents were grouped around their Christmas tree. What caught my eye was the mince pie and carrot for Santa and his animals.
Now my family tradition was to put presents into socks/stockings and pillow cases which would be put at the foot of a childs bed (out of direct view) once they were fast asleep. That way Father Christmas came and left the surprise presents for them.
That was, after all, the magic of it all. Anticipation of him coming and what would he bring? Once the secret of Santa was exposed the magic went.
I was puzzled by the mince pie and carrot as it gave me the impression (I don't know what they had told their children) that Santa had been already with gifts, to be opened the next morning, and would have forgotten his pie or he might come back for it.
As a believing youngster (under eight I guess), before the excitement subsided and I fell asleep, I used to wonder where he was. My horizons were limited to a five miles or so distance from my home and I was able to imagine that he was somewhere along the Stratford Road heading south out of the city. I knew the city was a large place and would take priority over those who lived 'in the sticks' so as to speak. Usually it was in the Sparkhill area that my mind envisaged. I find it hard to agree with those who think a myth is not to be told to children and they should be given the "truth". Just another way of curtailing childhood in my view. Children grow up far too soon it seems. But with social media I guess times change.
I recall one of my sons, when young, creeping around when the presents were located downstairs. I heard him tell his younger brother "He's been"!. That was the year they managed to get us up at 5 am.
Now my family tradition was to put presents into socks/stockings and pillow cases which would be put at the foot of a childs bed (out of direct view) once they were fast asleep. That way Father Christmas came and left the surprise presents for them.
That was, after all, the magic of it all. Anticipation of him coming and what would he bring? Once the secret of Santa was exposed the magic went.
I was puzzled by the mince pie and carrot as it gave me the impression (I don't know what they had told their children) that Santa had been already with gifts, to be opened the next morning, and would have forgotten his pie or he might come back for it.
As a believing youngster (under eight I guess), before the excitement subsided and I fell asleep, I used to wonder where he was. My horizons were limited to a five miles or so distance from my home and I was able to imagine that he was somewhere along the Stratford Road heading south out of the city. I knew the city was a large place and would take priority over those who lived 'in the sticks' so as to speak. Usually it was in the Sparkhill area that my mind envisaged. I find it hard to agree with those who think a myth is not to be told to children and they should be given the "truth". Just another way of curtailing childhood in my view. Children grow up far too soon it seems. But with social media I guess times change.
I recall one of my sons, when young, creeping around when the presents were located downstairs. I heard him tell his younger brother "He's been"!. That was the year they managed to get us up at 5 am.
I Am Nico
master brummie
We went Carol singing and the school stopped that in favour of an organised one as old folk got frightened even then that was the late 60's. We did go as a whole school year of us to sing at an OAP's home called Bevan Lodge. We had to make our own way there at night, on the bus and in our school uniform which was a pain. We gave them cards we made and a present each donated by the school. Some old folk were quite moved and never let go of your hand. Me and a lad Anthony were allotted to an old lady who looked like Miriam Margoyles and she was very deaf so it was hard going for us shy lads and she got very emotional and kept kissing our hands. We had named people to give presents to. My gift recipient was a Mrs Spurgeon. (what a memory) I was 11/12. We boys were made to dress up as babies and sing Jingle Bells which was awful and if your voice had not broken you had to do a solo. Thankfully mine had, well I said it had and I was tall and they believed me. The teachers assumed we had little siblings or nephews and nieces but as I didn't I artisticly cut up an old pillow slip corner for a bonnet, the rest for a bib and stuck some badges I got from a cracker on it.
oldMohawk
gone but not forgotten
As a child I remember the old trams as they rattled and swayed on the old streets of Brum. Number 6 Perry Barr trams were the ones I remember most and here is one passing James Watt Street on it's way to Martineau Street. I remember little Miss Barber and Everybody's magazine.
Children standing in the same place today would see the view below ...
Children standing in the same place today would see the view below ...
sospiri
GONE BUT NOT FORGOTTEN
They seemed antiquated in their day, but many is the time that I and my younger brother accompanied my mother on the No. 6 tram from the top of Martineau Street to the Bartons Arms, then a walk up Potters Hill, turn left into Bartons Bank, then a right turn and down a zig zag path to what was originally known as Bartons Place. But it had always been known to my mother as 2 back of 15 Bartons Bank. The house had a rather elegant front door, which was never used as we always entered via the back door into the kitchen, as did every other visitor. That front door would have opened into a hall, with stairs to the three upstairs bedrooms, and beneath the stairs, a door behind which were steps leading to the large cellar - our shelter from Hitler's bombs in the early part of WW2.
My grandmother's youngest son, Albert was still living with her at the time and in the early 1960s the place was torn down and they moved to Albert Road, Kings Heath. Forum member Eric Gibson would have made a similar journey as his grandmother lived in the same group of houses, yet we never knowingly met at that time. In the large living room was an upright walnut-veneered piano in excellent condition, though never played since my Uncle Stan moved out, first to Southampton to manufacture aircraft parts during the war, and some years later to Worcester. The piano later became mine, but many years later. In an alcove to the right of the fire grate was a sideboard and above that hung a large chiming pendulum clock. My grandmother's Singer sewing machine stood under the solitary window of that room, and next to that on a table was my uncle's radio. But she hated that radio as she was very deaf and to her it was just an annoyance!
I never knew my grandfather or my great grandfather as they passed away within a year of each other some 17 years before I was born. But his legacy was still there on my visits - both red and black currant bushes fruiting well, loganberries, and a large black Hamburg grape vine which, like the loganberries, was stil laden with fruit over 40 years later. But long gone was the goat and the angora rabbits that he apparently kept at one time. Of course the copper and the big old mangle were still in the large kitchen when we visited. Happy days.
Maurice
My grandmother's youngest son, Albert was still living with her at the time and in the early 1960s the place was torn down and they moved to Albert Road, Kings Heath. Forum member Eric Gibson would have made a similar journey as his grandmother lived in the same group of houses, yet we never knowingly met at that time. In the large living room was an upright walnut-veneered piano in excellent condition, though never played since my Uncle Stan moved out, first to Southampton to manufacture aircraft parts during the war, and some years later to Worcester. The piano later became mine, but many years later. In an alcove to the right of the fire grate was a sideboard and above that hung a large chiming pendulum clock. My grandmother's Singer sewing machine stood under the solitary window of that room, and next to that on a table was my uncle's radio. But she hated that radio as she was very deaf and to her it was just an annoyance!
I never knew my grandfather or my great grandfather as they passed away within a year of each other some 17 years before I was born. But his legacy was still there on my visits - both red and black currant bushes fruiting well, loganberries, and a large black Hamburg grape vine which, like the loganberries, was stil laden with fruit over 40 years later. But long gone was the goat and the angora rabbits that he apparently kept at one time. Of course the copper and the big old mangle were still in the large kitchen when we visited. Happy days.
Maurice
I Am Nico
master brummie
Lovely vivid memories Maurice. Nan's neighbour had a treddle sewing machine she would mind me when Nan had to go out somewhere important. I never knew where though.
I know Martineau Sq is still there, I wonder if the other roads are.
I went on a tram in Blackpool festooned with lights for the 'lumintaions (nan again) with her and grandad and I was so disappointed as it was just a tram inside.
My uncle kept 2 big white fat buck rabbits in tiny cages in a shed with a flip up mesh door closing both. Somehow one got in to the other and ripped his ear off. They were my cousins' but they never looked after them.
Glad you got the piano.
I know Martineau Sq is still there, I wonder if the other roads are.
I went on a tram in Blackpool festooned with lights for the 'lumintaions (nan again) with her and grandad and I was so disappointed as it was just a tram inside.
My uncle kept 2 big white fat buck rabbits in tiny cages in a shed with a flip up mesh door closing both. Somehow one got in to the other and ripped his ear off. They were my cousins' but they never looked after them.
Glad you got the piano.
Richard Dye
master brummie
Maurice, you have brought back many similar memories! My grandmothers copper and mangle in the kitchen. Her WC was outside next to the coal shed and her sewing machine along side the coal/coke fired stove. I don’t remember a wireless though.They seemed antiquated in their day, but many is the time that I and my younger brother accompanied my mother on the No. 6 tram from the top of Martineau Street to the Bartons Arms, then a walk up Potters Hill, turn left into Bartons Bank, then a right turn and down a zig zag path to what was originally known as Bartons Place. But it had always been known to my mother as 2 back of 15 Bartons Bank. The house had a rather elegant front door, which was never used as we always entered via the back door into the kitchen, as did every other visitor. That front door would have opened into a hall, with stairs to the three upstairs bedrooms, and beneath the stairs, a door behind which were steps leading to the large cellar - our shelter from Hitler's bombs in the early part of WW2.
My grandmother's youngest son, Albert was still living with her at the time and in the early 1960s the place was torn down and they moved to Albert Road, Kings Heath. Forum member Eric Gibson would have made a similar journey as his grandmother lived in the same group of houses, yet we never knowingly met at that time. In the large living room was an upright walnut-veneered piano in excellent condition, though never played since my Uncle Stan moved out, first to Southampton to manufacture aircraft parts during the war, and some years later to Worcester. The piano later became mine, but many years later. In an alcove to the right of the fire grate was a sideboard and above that hung a large chiming pendulum clock. My grandmother's Singer sewing machine stood under the solitary window of that room, and next to that on a table was my uncle's radio. But she hated that radio as she was very deaf and to her it was just an annoyance!
I never knew my grandfather or my great grandfather as they passed away within a year of each other some 17 years before I was born. But his legacy was still there on my visits - both red and black currant bushes fruiting well, loganberries, and a large black Hamburg grape vine which, like the loganberries, was stil laden with fruit over 40 years later. But long gone was the goat and the angora rabbits that he apparently kept at one time. Of course the copper and the big old mangle were still in the large kitchen when we visited. Happy days.
Maurice
Thank you again!
Eric Gibson
master brummie
Reading that Maurice reminded me of grandad's house, I remember them lighting the gas lights and the thick velvet tablecloth with tassels hanging down and the damned great Alsation dog that brushed around my knees as we had Sunday tea.
sospiri
GONE BUT NOT FORGOTTEN
Nico,
I had the piano for 11 years and spent many happy hours playing it and borrowing music from various Birmingham Libraries, but when I moved south in 1961, I couldn't take it with me. My mother tried to teach herself for a year or so, but arthritis was starting in her hands and she gave up too. She too moved to Dorset a few years later and sold it before she left Brum.
Richard,
I think my uncle acquired the radio shortly after he came out of the Army in 1946. At about the same time he bought a wooden shed and put it in the garden and ran an electric cable from the kitchen so that he had light, power and heat. He would listen to the radio until my grandmother started nagging him and then he would go out into the shed where all his "man things" were. He'd bought a Wolf electric drill with all the many attachments, including a very basic lathe. He'd do a bit of woodturning, or build little electric motors using the big old U-shaped magnets from old loudspeakers - anything that got him away from his boring job as an accounts clerk at Perry Pens.
Maurice
I had the piano for 11 years and spent many happy hours playing it and borrowing music from various Birmingham Libraries, but when I moved south in 1961, I couldn't take it with me. My mother tried to teach herself for a year or so, but arthritis was starting in her hands and she gave up too. She too moved to Dorset a few years later and sold it before she left Brum.
Richard,
I think my uncle acquired the radio shortly after he came out of the Army in 1946. At about the same time he bought a wooden shed and put it in the garden and ran an electric cable from the kitchen so that he had light, power and heat. He would listen to the radio until my grandmother started nagging him and then he would go out into the shed where all his "man things" were. He'd bought a Wolf electric drill with all the many attachments, including a very basic lathe. He'd do a bit of woodturning, or build little electric motors using the big old U-shaped magnets from old loudspeakers - anything that got him away from his boring job as an accounts clerk at Perry Pens.
Maurice
Robert Ensor (bob)
master brummie
The garden shed a early "man cave" now I am rethinking the whole Allotments deal,Nico,
I had the piano for 11 years and spent many happy hours playing it and borrowing music from various Birmingham Libraries, but when I moved south in 1961, I couldn't take it with me. My mother tried to teach herself for a year or so, but arthritis was starting in her hands and she gave up too. She too moved to Dorset a few years later and sold it before she left Brum.
Richard,
I think my uncle acquired the radio shortly after he came out of the Army in 1946. At about the same time he bought a wooden shed and put it in the garden and ran an electric cable from the kitchen so that he had light, power and heat. He would listen to the radio until my grandmother started nagging him and then he would go out into the shed where all his "man things" were. He'd bought a Wolf electric drill with all the many attachments, including a very basic lathe. He'd do a bit of woodturning, or build little electric motors using the big old U-shaped magnets from old loudspeakers - anything that got him away from his boring job as an accounts clerk at Perry Pens.
Maurice
