More Riches......

It seems that I have awakened a few childhood memories with my last blog episode.......And Mick talking about trolleys/bogeys/whatever you called them when you were growing up......there were endless arguments in our house.......there were five lads and only one trolley......so there were fights and falling outs over who was going to be playing on it......it was a longbodied trolley and would accommodate two of the lads comfortably....but the others were never happy to wait for their turn.
During the summer it was the first two to get home from school who would commandeer the thing.......and head for the top of Carter Street....they would then whiz down and try to turn sharply onto Marsden Street......any miscalculation and they would collide with the poles near the Old band club. Then one day my Ma had heard that they had been careering down Rose Street......very steep and with Victoria St at the bottom and the factories, it was very busy...potentially lethal.
The lads were assembled in the back yard and made to watch while my dad took an axe to the trolley......he smashed it into smithereens while the lads cried and wailed that they would never do such a daft thing again.....indeed they wouldn't as they saw their beloved trolley turned into firewood.........Dad even took the spokes out of the pram wheels so they could not be used again.

We played out until it was dark almost every single day...rain, hail or shine.
In Winter we lived in wellies...and had the distinctive red ring around our legs to prove it.
Our play was mainly, what today they would call 'role play'.......Cowboys and indians......cops and robbers.......I can remember the sense of exhilaration we felt as we avoided being 'captured'.......we played games.....hopscotch, ran races, played hide and seek......rounders and football....all good healthy outdoor pursuits.

We went home tired and hungry to find good basic grub being served up...lots of bread and potatoes...and we were never fat.
We rarely had sweets.
A treat was to sit on the back step with a chunk of rhubarb and a twist of sugar....or a mix of cocoa powder with some sugar in it.
Toast was done on the glowing coals of the fire....and in Winter I really enjoyed a slice of hot buttered toast and a cup of steaming cocoa when I came in from school.

I never really liked the winter...we were often cold.
Our bedroom was icy.......and ma would warm our bed with a brick that had been in the kitchen range.....or one of the oven trays......and for a few minutes the bed would be warm....but it would soon get cold again.

Being poor meant that often there wasn't enough money for a load of coal.....and coalmen would not deliver anything less than a full load to where we lived.
Ma used to send me off down to Nuttall Street...to Bob Wilkies shop for a bag of coal bricks......I would take the pram...carefully protected with clean newspaper(which would later be cut up to double as lavvy paper)......we also had a Valor paraffin stove.......and I would take a gallon can and get that too.
During my childhood there were a spate of fires caused by these heaters tipping over....so the Valor stove was relegated to use only when parents were around.
Yes, my parents left me from time to time, alone in the house caring for my brothers.......I was made responsible and told who I could go to if I needed a grown up...it was often Auntie Heapie...she was an elderly next door neighbour, and not an Auntie at all...but she looked out for us.

I know there will be parents out there who read this and will be horrified that there were times when we were left unsupervised......but that is how it was then.
I don't believe it did me any harm....my mother knew I was a 'sensible' child.

Times have changed so much in a relatively short period.(and not always for the better - though that is only my opinion).

Even though there were times when I had to be grown up, I still had a childhood with its days of fun and carefree times.