[jambutty]

My heart bleeds for you guys and gals. I can just hear the violins.

At least you had a house to live in. On three occasions we found ourselves on the street having been thrown out of lodgings and considered ourselves lucky to find a bed in the workhouse. The one that I particularly remember was called Moorlands on the main road between Haslingden and Rawtenstall.

I suppose that we all look back to those times with a little bit of fondness but in all honesty I wouldn’t like them to return. What would be nice would be a return to the values and attitudes of the people. Even though few people had two ha’pennies to rub together people could leave their milk money in an empty bottle on the doorstep and no one would even think about nicking it let alone actually doing so.

There was no need to lock your front door because no one would nip in and nick something.

Which reminds me – my mum used to boil the milk or stand the bottle in a bucket of cold water.