Quote:
Originally Posted by MargaretR
Many weekends in my childhood were spent at a farm in Ingleton.
I was playing on stacked hay bales in the barn. They weren't wrapped in black plastic in those days. I didn't see the narrow air gap which had been left between stacks and slipped down it. I recall the stacks were about 4 times my height. I shouted for help but no-one heard. I suppose my cries were muffled by the bales.
After several attempts I managed to climb out. I could have pulled bales onto me and suffocated.
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Playing on stacked hay bales Margaret, nudge nudge wink wink
