mbenne
master brummie
This response was prompted by a comment by wendylee on the Sheldon thread and made me think about the fun we had as kids and whether we missed out compared to what kids have today...........
In the late 50s, Sheldon was becoming a built up area nearing the final transition from village to busy suburb, but we were fortunate to be never far from the countryside or large open spaces. I can recall walking with my friend to see his grandparents at Castle Hills Farm, having tea and sandwiches in the low beamed living room and being intrigued to hear a story that Charles I had stayed there during the Civil War- though never confirmed we scoured every relevant book we could find in Brays Road library and wrote copious notes, which we placed in a large chest in the farm attic. We intended filling the chest with notes but on seeing our meagre contributions in the bottom, after hours of meaningless writing, quickly moved on to something else!
We would often join the ranks of imaginary armies on secret missions playing war games on King George V playing fields, where all soldiers were heroes and could rise again from sudden death to fight again, to then desert and paddle in the brook without wellies, weather permitting, catching Robin Redbreasts (sticklebacks). Arms outstretched we'd return as fighter planes and on safely landing home I'd endure the wrath of my nan, warning me of the danger of getting polio! I was also questioned if I returned from a mission with sweets from an unknown source. If she disapproved of the doner I'd have to put them in the bin on account of , "so and so has scabby hands and you'll likely catch something".
Special treat - a stick of rhubarb and a bag of sugar and maybe some Dandelion and Burdock pop.
Excitement and anticipation - hearing the ice cream van. Can I have one? Will it be a 3d lolly, a 6d choc ice , Lyons Maid raspberry split? A ice cream cone with nuts and juice and even a flake? Sometimes it was just plain, NO, in which case we would mope and stare enviously at the lucky kids queuing at the van! Then off to play, thinking, maybe next time?
Its hard to imagine that in the summer we might wander quite far from home, often unaccompanied and, in school holidays, play out in the street until 8 or 9pm in the evening without fear. We knew every inch of our territory, and the consequences of being caught in neighbouring kids territories too, and all the short cuts from gulleys (that's what we called them) to neighbouring streets. Gulleys were a parallel world where we could travel unseen and get up to innocent mischief; exploring open garages mothballing long abandoned cars- surprising how many people left their doors open, long forgotten back garden air raid shelters, tree climbing, smoking, lighting fires, eating blackberries, scrumping, making dens, attacking swathes of stinging nettles with sticks, rubbing our stings with dock leaves, conker picking in the autumn, collecting hawthorn berries as ammunition to fire from our bicycle pumps!
Coming home exhausted and going to bed - too late for watching TV then snacking on brown sauce or Lyles syrup sandwiches!
Would we have envied what kids have today or were we privileged? Who has missed the most?
In the late 50s, Sheldon was becoming a built up area nearing the final transition from village to busy suburb, but we were fortunate to be never far from the countryside or large open spaces. I can recall walking with my friend to see his grandparents at Castle Hills Farm, having tea and sandwiches in the low beamed living room and being intrigued to hear a story that Charles I had stayed there during the Civil War- though never confirmed we scoured every relevant book we could find in Brays Road library and wrote copious notes, which we placed in a large chest in the farm attic. We intended filling the chest with notes but on seeing our meagre contributions in the bottom, after hours of meaningless writing, quickly moved on to something else!
We would often join the ranks of imaginary armies on secret missions playing war games on King George V playing fields, where all soldiers were heroes and could rise again from sudden death to fight again, to then desert and paddle in the brook without wellies, weather permitting, catching Robin Redbreasts (sticklebacks). Arms outstretched we'd return as fighter planes and on safely landing home I'd endure the wrath of my nan, warning me of the danger of getting polio! I was also questioned if I returned from a mission with sweets from an unknown source. If she disapproved of the doner I'd have to put them in the bin on account of , "so and so has scabby hands and you'll likely catch something".
Special treat - a stick of rhubarb and a bag of sugar and maybe some Dandelion and Burdock pop.
Excitement and anticipation - hearing the ice cream van. Can I have one? Will it be a 3d lolly, a 6d choc ice , Lyons Maid raspberry split? A ice cream cone with nuts and juice and even a flake? Sometimes it was just plain, NO, in which case we would mope and stare enviously at the lucky kids queuing at the van! Then off to play, thinking, maybe next time?
Its hard to imagine that in the summer we might wander quite far from home, often unaccompanied and, in school holidays, play out in the street until 8 or 9pm in the evening without fear. We knew every inch of our territory, and the consequences of being caught in neighbouring kids territories too, and all the short cuts from gulleys (that's what we called them) to neighbouring streets. Gulleys were a parallel world where we could travel unseen and get up to innocent mischief; exploring open garages mothballing long abandoned cars- surprising how many people left their doors open, long forgotten back garden air raid shelters, tree climbing, smoking, lighting fires, eating blackberries, scrumping, making dens, attacking swathes of stinging nettles with sticks, rubbing our stings with dock leaves, conker picking in the autumn, collecting hawthorn berries as ammunition to fire from our bicycle pumps!
Coming home exhausted and going to bed - too late for watching TV then snacking on brown sauce or Lyles syrup sandwiches!
Would we have envied what kids have today or were we privileged? Who has missed the most?
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