[Margaret Pilkington]

My happy childhood memories also revolve around things which cost very little.

A play tent made for us by my dad......I can see him now, treadling for dear life and guiding the fent of white twill cotton through the sewing machine. Yes my dad could sew!
That play tent was used during the long summer holidays.....it was, in our imaginations, all manner of things....an indian teepee(cowboys and indians) a field hospital, a house. It was limited only by our imagination.
I remember paddling in the brook at the back of Highams mill, catching tiddlers and sticklebacks with a loop of wire covered with an old stocking and stuck in a bit of bamboo.
I remember sitting in the kitchen in winter, by the light of the fire drinking cocoa and eating toast done on the coals, while listening to Dick Barton on the radio.

I remember picking blackberries in the autumn......arms and legs covered in scratches from the spiky brambles....mouth purple from eating the luscious fruits, unwashed? Of course they were unwashed. We were told that we had to eat a peck of muck before we died.

I can remember Stantons pop van coming every Friday teatime, and us pestering to be allowed to buy a stone jar of Sarsaprilla........dark like Guiness, with a creamy bubbly froth on top. Pop? No of course it wasn't pop...it was the champagne of pop
I can remember sitting on the back stoop with a twist of paper with sugar in it and a stick of very sour rhubarb from the allotments. Dip and bite.....it was so sour it made your bum wink.

I have so many memories of my childhood.....we were poor in terms of spending power, but rich in experiences...and for that I am truly truly grateful.