Oh, hello. I didn't see you there. I was lost in thought. I was thinking . . . But tell you what, why don't you come with me and I'll show you what I was thinking?
Close your eyes and we'll soon be there. Open them again. It's a Monday in 1962 and we're standing in Medina Road, Tyseley. Just behind us is the Warwick Road. On our left is Yardley Grammar School and just up there on the right, on the corner of Havelock Road is Mr and Mrs Woolley's sweet shop.
Let's go in. The pupils are still in school so it should be empty. I love the sound of that bell over the door that jangles as we enter.
Yes, I know there's nobody serving, but wait a bit and Mrs Woolley will come from her sitting room at the back. In the meantime, feast your eyes on everything that's on offer. Woolleys is very similar to many other corner sweet shops in the 1960s.
Look at those huge jars of sweets - the multi-coloured rainbow caylie, the gob stoppers, the dolly mixtures - jar upon jar of them. I often used to buy 2oz of one of them. But today I've brought you for a special treat, my favourite. I've got 8d with me and I'm going to buy two frozen jubblies - one for you and one for me. What? You don't know what they are.
They are like huge ice lollies made of orange juice, but they don't look like regular ice lollies, they're shaped like a triangular prism and you have to work at the cardboard covering with your teeth to get in at the ice.
Yes, I know it's a bit of a pain, but it's worth it when you get to taste it. And it lasts and lasts. In fact, near the end you're sucking on just ice, because all the flavouring has gone.
There, I said you'd like it. What value for 4d.
Now, let's pop out of the shop and just wait, because the school lunch bell is about to go.
There it goes. Now stand back, here they come. At lunchtime Woolleys corner sweet shop transforms itself into 'The Tuck Shop'. Lots of boys are coming running across the road to get into the shop before the queue. Yes, that long lanky one does look like me. That's because it is me in 1962. I think the expression is 'There's more fat on a greasy chip.' The same can't be said nowadays if you see my belly.
I've been at the school since 1960 and I'll stay here till 1965, with the tuck shop being part of my daily school life as it was for generations of boys before me.
Watch what I'm buying from Mrs Woolley. It's a bottle of ice cream soda pop, my favourite flavour. Now, did you see me take a coin and use it's edge to scrape down the middle of the label? Well, watch now how I fold the label back on itself and write my name on the reverse. That pop bottle's got to last me the week, and Mrs Wolley will keep it behind the counter with the pop bottles that other boys have bought, and all I need to do is ask for my bottle when I come in each day so I can have a swig.
I wondered when you'd realise that. Yes they are all boys, even though it's a mixed school. The boys and girls have separate entrances and separate playgrounds. The girls have their own sweet shop near their entrance in Reddings Lane and the boys aren't allowed to go in there. But I reckon ours is the better one anyway, because Mr and Mrs Woolley are such nice people.
OK, it's time to take you back to 2010 now. Unfortunately, you won't be able to come back and view all this in 2010, because the school has long moved to a new building and there are houses where it once stood. What was Mr and Mrs Woolley's shop still remains but is now just a residential property.
I'll tell you what you can do, however.
Why don't you pop by this thread every so often and have a read? You could even add to the thread by telling us about some of the sweets, pop, ices etc. that you enjoyed buying from your own sweet shop, in those days long gone.
I will probably pop back myself to tell you of some more of the things I liked to buy.
It's been nice having you with me. See you again, soon.
, but the sweet shop in Hurst Street by the Hippodrome (see below), used to remind me of those childhood corner sweet shops. I often dropped in there for the odd quarter of troach drops (ok I admit it, 1/2 pound), when I used to work nearby.
