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Post by Deleted on Feb 23, 2013 7:08:10 GMT
THEN v/s NOW Rather an easy answer to a question from my daughter:
Q: If I had the chance to go back in time to my childhood, would I go?
My answer below, seemed to confuse her as I replied:
A: Yes, I would go back, but only if I went as a child, but I would not want to go back at my current age off 66, because I would not like to live through the shortages, poverty and the lack of ‘everything’ my own, and other parents suffered.
Showing my daughter the pictures provided by planetmalc, she could not understand the emotion over ‘just’ pictures!
Lisa, who is now 41, was brought up in a loving, modern home, and wanted for virtually nothing. Trying to explain to her that not just me and my family, but most families had next to nothing back then, it was the ‘norm’.
That’s the way life was back then, got nothing, expected nothing, made the best of what we had!
I have never believed in the ‘good old days’, I never missed things because I didn’t know about ‘things’.
Trying to explain about pawn shops, outside loos, news of the world toilet paper, cardboard in your shoes to cover holes, jam or lard sandwich for your tea/supper, no central heating, no hot running water. Living in rented houses that were only fit for demolition, rationing, emerging from war years austerity to find plenty of jobs due to a manpower shortage and the gradual rebuilding of the economy!
But of course my ‘hard’ upbringing made me the person I am today, and happy with the thought that at least no-one in this country would ever live through our ‘youth’ and it’s shortages….
My own, and most other parents must have gone through hell to bring us up during and after the war, living on ‘strap’ provided by shopkeepers, ‘uncles, the pawnshop, and other ways to scrape a living.
But, do you know, I cannot get enough of stories and pictures from my youth, strange that!
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Post by Deleted on Feb 23, 2013 10:23:24 GMT
Do you remember the Gasman that used to call round to empty the gas meter. Mom always seemed nervous or embarrassed when he called. He would take the lock of the meter, remove the tin box, tip out the coins, count it all putting the coins in piles, he would then sort out the foreign coins and washers, take the money that was owed for the used gas, giving back cash and foreign coins. I think this was why she was embarrassed, being given the dodgy coins and washers, and yet by all accounts, it happened in every home.
Strange then, that I have absolutely no recollection of how we paid for the electric .
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Post by jhedger on Feb 23, 2013 11:28:25 GMT
You are right about going back only as in the innocence of childhood - that is what 'tricks our memories of today' that it was the halcyon days. When we do have 'our sensible, logical heads on' we can look back and see the truth of the struggle of life our parents faced - I for one am very grateful to mine. Love you and miss you Mum and Dad xx Jan
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Post by planetmalc on Feb 25, 2013 14:51:29 GMT
Do you remember the Gasman that used to call round to empty the gas meter. Mom always seemed nervous or embarrassed when he called. He would take the lock of the meter, remove the tin box, tip out the coins, count it all putting the coins in piles, he would then sort out the foreign coins and washers, take the money that was owed for the used gas, giving back cash and foreign coins. I think this was why she was embarrassed, being given the dodgy coins and washers, and yet by all accounts, it happened in every home. Strange then, that I have absolutely no recollection of how we paid for the electric . The foreign coins and washers was a regular thing, Ray, and would be done if you hadn't got the correct coinage (6d or 1/-) to hand (for whatever reason). The gasman lived in the real world and knew it wasn't fiddle; all he cared about was leaving your property with the correct amount of legal tender. We has a coinage meter for the electric in the early days, but it got changed to the coin-free version sometime in the early 50's (don't know whether this was at our request or if it was just foisted on us).
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Post by Deleted on Mar 16, 2014 1:34:03 GMT
I can emphathise entirely with your comments bluenose about how different our children's lives are from the ones we knew growing up. Of course we would not want it any differently for them, it is called "progress". However, I remember by the time I and friends of mine were getting married we expected to be buying our houses (albeit with mortgages), have carpets, furniture, central heating, bathrooms/indoor toilets. Whereas our parents took it for granted they would probably have to live first with parents, then rent rooms or a flat/house, have second-hand furniture and all those other things you mention like no running hot water, the outside toilet - we were posh because we had Daily Mail newspaper in our's! Sadly I see the pendulum swinging back a little as the youngsters today have a difficult time to find deposits for houses and pay mortgages, with wives having to go out to work not from choice. Funny old life. As a very new member (unable to sleep!) I am enjoying reading through the topics etc on here. Thank you.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 16, 2014 7:36:35 GMT
I can emphathise entirely with your comments bluenose about how different our children's lives are from the ones we knew growing up. Of course we would not want it any differently for them, it is called "progress". However, I remember by the time I and friends of mine were getting married we expected to be buying our houses (albeit with mortgages), have carpets, furniture, central heating, bathrooms/indoor toilets. Whereas our parents took it for granted they would probably have to live first with parents, then rent rooms or a flat/house, have second-hand furniture and all those other things you mention like no running hot water, the outside toilet - we were posh because we had Daily Mail newspaper in our's! Sadly I see the pendulum swinging back a little as the youngsters today have a difficult time to find deposits for houses and pay mortgages, with wives having to go out to work not from choice. Funny old life. As a very new member (unable to sleep!) I am enjoying reading through the topics etc on here. Thank you. Hi and welcome angelacain1,
As you say, a funny old life!
When I got my very first mortgage with the Abbey National I was 19 years old. My wife and I went up town to sign the final documents and I remember saying once completed, crikey, £20.10s every month, I hope I haven't bitten off more than I can chew ! But today, our society is indeed swinging back to the 'bad old days'...... A mortgage is difficult to obtain if you are not earning £plenty, but couples are being told by 'advisor's to see the Council and get on the 'list', something my and other Parents grew up expecting to do! When I started work at 15 years old [1962], there was plenty of employment, walking around streets, there were signs everywhere with 'Vacancies' placed outside buildings.
In some ways, when I was a lad, being naive and innocent, as we all were then, growing up was all fun, but, holes in your shoes, bed-bugs, outside toilets, fetching Coal & Coke on a 3-wheeled pram from Saltley[downhill going - uphill on return], 3 in a bed, windows in the attic frozen inside as well as out, no central heating, hot water via kettle, hand-me down clothing from anywhere, and constant visits to the 'Pawn-shop'.........
But somehow, I am many others still look back with pride, because we managed to 'do OK' for ourselves in life, and get out of the poverty trap we were born into....................................
I am convinced, being born with nowt, hardens your resolve to work hard and get a share of life's better offerings....
Ray.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 18, 2014 23:53:49 GMT
Thanks for reply Ray. Only today a friend and I were talking about how easy it was to get jobs in the 60s (I also started work then). I trained and qualified as a Secretary (as we were called then, none of this Executive PA lark! although that is what I ended up as before retiring in 2008). I always knew that I could walk straight out of one job and into another. Not so when I hit my late 50s. Nobody wants a fairy when they're 40 and nobody wants a PA when they're approaching 60! I too am convinced that having to work hard to get what you need and want makes you appreciate it all the more. To this day I still enjoy having central heating, being able to luxuriate in a hot bath (not the tin one in front of the fire) and not having to go outside to the toilet shared with others. There was of course a great feeling of neighbourliness and people cared and talked to one another. But I would not change my comfortable lifestyle for living in the two up/two down slum thank you very much. I also remember collecting coal from Saltley - standing freezing waiting in the queue. Ugh! About to curl up in my comfortable warm bed. Night night. Angela
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Post by Jerry on Mar 28, 2014 15:22:27 GMT
Funny isn't it how when we compare the past with the present - we shudder how we ever lived without a life without central heating, the internet, computers etc. But one very important thing has been lost forever - for which I struggle to live in the present age: Milk delivered to your door EVERY morning!! Why do I have to fight the crowds in the supermarket every Saturday afternoon - only to find they don't have the full fat - just the skimmed, or semi-skimmed, or UHT. And if I do find the full fat, the shelf life is just 3 or 4 days - so I have to take two packets - but both have the same sell-by date - so that means I'll HAVE to pop into the supermarket AGAIN mid-week - at rush hour, on my way home from work - to see if there's fresh milk to last me until...Saturday. By rush hour, on a Wednesday, its hard to find anything remotely resembling milk. So no....I don't miss the draughty windows, or the outside pull-chain toilets, or the Hillman Humbers - but I do miss milkmen. Can't believe I used to wake up every morning and just pick up a fresh bottle of milk from my doorstep. What luxury! Hi Bertram Boy, your post brings back a lot of memories. We all remember the milkman of course. Being marginally older than you some of us remember when the milk floats were horse drawn instead of those newfangled electric floats. I suppose horses were the first example of renewable energy, they could keep going all day on nothing but oats. Sadly, some of the kids had to do the same in those days. There were basically two types of milk. Sterilised milk, which to most people tasted pretty naff and was generally used in tea and pasteurised milk which tasted great and was used for drinking. Now in the warm weather the sterilised milk would keep for probably two days at room temperature but the pasteurised milk would go off after about 24 hours. Our Mum and I'm sure many others would stand the opened bottles in a bowl of water at night to try to keep them cool. Staying with opened bottles our Mum would fashion "corks" for them made out of twisted up pieces of newspaper to keep the local flying wildlife out. The milk would have kept for twice as long in a fridge of course but that's a pretty moot point since I never met a single person who actually had a fridge until I was 21. Staying in the 50s, during term time, every kid in every school would receive a small bottle of milk at break time each morning, those bottles contained a third of a pint. Now in 1956 while at Little Green Lane School I was appointed one of the milk monitors. Oh, no applause please, you're too kind! Anyway, it was our job to get to school early to meet the milk lorry and unload the crates of milk and distribute them to each classroom. Then after school we would go around and collect all the empties for the driver to take away the next morning. For this sterling work we were paid, I think, about a pound at Christmas. Now one of the perks was that there were always plenty of unopened bottles because, let's face it, not all kids like milk. So we got to help ourselves to as much milk as we wanted, happy days.
Coming up to date, I sympathise with your dilemma but it's a problem that we don't have here. Of course most people buy their milk in the supermarkets now, although you still see an occasional milk float gliding around. Now normally we buy a 4 pint container of pasteurised milk on a Saturday and the shelf life can be up to 9 days! Now, in our younger days pasteurised milk wouldn't keep for half that time, even in a fridge so I've often wondered if "they" are putting something in the milk, or the cow, to make it last longer. ( The milk, that is, not the cow. )
I worry that they're pumping the poor animals full of hormones or genetically modified fodder. If I start growing extra body bits I'm gonna sue the hell out of someone!
Finally, I think I see the solution to your predicament. Try ordering some on line from Asda! Even if it takes them a couple of days to deliver it'll still last longer than the local brew
Jerry
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Post by planetmalc on Apr 3, 2014 17:17:23 GMT
Mollycoddled you were, Jerry; I was a milk monitor at Somerville and we got paid nowt. (That's the way to treat sycophants! ) Occasionally (on a complete surprise basis) one or two of the 'milk crates' would contain one-third pint milk bottles filled with orange juice instead , and these would be eagerly snapped up. Once me & my mate had got the crate back to the classroom, I'd have to bodge holes in all the tinfoil tops and insert a straw into each, then hand them out. The 'bodger' was a metal dome with a spike in the underside and I kept it in my desk.
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Post by pedro42 on Apr 3, 2014 18:42:54 GMT
Mollycoddled you were, Jerry; I was a milk monitor at Somerville and we got paid nowt. (That's the way to treat sycophants! ) Occasionally (on a complete surprise basis) one or two of the 'milk crates' would contain one-third pint milk bottles filled with orange juice instead , and these would be eagerly snapped up. Once me & my mate had got the crate back to the classroom, I'd have to bodge holes in all the tinfoil tops and insert a straw into each, then hand them out. The 'bodger' was a metal dome with a spike in the underside and I kept it in my desk. Great memories. I was milk monitor for class 4.1 in 1959. A highly privileged position, the likes of which I have sought to replicate ever since!!
Pete
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Post by planetmalc on Apr 11, 2014 13:13:44 GMT
Mollycoddled you were, Jerry; I was a milk monitor at Somerville and we got paid nowt. (That's the way to treat sycophants! ) Occasionally (on a complete surprise basis) one or two of the 'milk crates' would contain one-third pint milk bottles filled with orange juice instead , and these would be eagerly snapped up. Once me & my mate had got the crate back to the classroom, I'd have to bodge holes in all the tinfoil tops and insert a straw into each, then hand them out. The 'bodger' was a metal dome with a spike in the underside and I kept it in my desk. Great memories. I was milk monitor for class 4.1 in 1959. A highly privileged position, the likes of which I have sought to replicate ever since!!
Pete
I was milk monitor several times in my Somerville days but can't remember if class 4.1 was one of them. I know that I was a playground monitor when I was in 4.1; I used to stand between the junior boys' playgound and the door to the corridor that went past Mr.Cooper's office and I was there to make sure that the kids marched from the playgound and into school in a long line and didn't speak while they were doing it.
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Post by planetmalc on Apr 12, 2014 16:23:50 GMT
............. if you folded your arms and sat up straight after you finished your first milk - and kept quiet - the teacher would give you the nod and you could help yourself to a second. This strategy was used at Somerville to let the best-behaved kids out of school a few minutes early.
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Post by planetmalc on Apr 14, 2014 16:41:52 GMT
Great memories. I was milk monitor for class 4.1 in 1959. A highly privileged position, the likes of which I have sought to replicate ever since!!
Pete
I was milk monitor several times in my Somerville days but can't remember if class 4.1 was one of them. I know that I was a playground monitor when I was in 4.1; I used to stand between the junior boys' playgound and the door to the corridor that went past Mr.Cooper's office and I was there to make sure that the kids marched from the playgound and into school in a long line and didn't speak while they were doing it. When I was in 3.1 (Miss Baker's class) I was a crisp monitor! At breaktimes, we'd go to the room that was immediately to the right of Mr. Cooper's office and haul out tin boxes (approx. 1 foot cubes) containing crisps and chocolate biscuits, take them to the Somerville Road end of the Junior School hall and set up a trestle table from which we'd flog these snacks to the kids. I can't remember what brand the biscuits were (they were approx. 4" x 2" oblongs wrapped in a blue-and-red tinfoil and tasted vaguely like Blue Riband biscuits) but the crisps were 'Star' brand, with a large yellow star covering most of the front side of the transluscent packet, and they had the regulation blue-paper twist of salt inside. I never saw these crisps on sale anywhere else so maybe they were a schools-only product.
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