Memories - early or general

That was lovely Janey. I can relate to having tea at a friends house and having strawberry jam butties and thought that was a real treat, and I remember climbing out of my bedroom window, having the old sash ones, one day and played in the dried up water tank just below. I too had to walk at the age of five to Folly Lane school from Welland Road over an iron railway bridge. I also well remember trying to wash my pet kitten in the outside toilet and the scratches up my arms, and the few years I had to stay at Mrs. Neal's day school while my parents were at work. There were just the 4 of us and we had a little tin each which contained counting beads and a piece of chalk to write on our slates. Then came my few years at Moseley Ave. school and poor Mr. Kell, my music teacher who gave up in despair declaring I would never become a concert pianist despite the fact I had long fingers and thought that's all I needed. The fat black cat, Lily, comes to my mind, who would hiss at me when I walked up the back path to my gran's house. The most unsociable cat ever who scared me to death and she knew it when she jumped out of the bushes. There is lots more but I won't go on, and Janey roused a few moments of my past which I will never forget. Thanks Janey.

Am I easily embarrassed or what! I keep recalling various incidents, such as back in the 1970s when we had two small children and nights out were extremely rare unless we could get a babysitter. We managed to get the neighbour to sit and my husband said he would like to go and see the Bluegrass Boys playing live at some pub out in the sticks, Priors Marston or similar. We duly dressed for the rare occasion, drove all out into the countryside, found the pub, but when we looked at the customers they were all in casual jeans, leather jackets etc. My husband was wearing his long black pure wool coat with his suit underneath, and a tie, and I was dressed in a sensible skirt and high heeled shoes. We looked so out of place and I felt so embarrassed. To cap it all, the Bluegrass Boys had cancelled, so we beat a hasty retreat. Another occasion during the 1980s, and I may have mentioned this before in another thread, was when the short smart tailored jackets in various shades were all the go for ladies. These were worn with three-quarter length floral skirts and black, or in my case, beige ruched knee high boots. My sister had a purple jacket and I had a pale blue one, and our skirts were very pretty and colourful. We felt like royalty, oh so smart. However, the venue was one of the Mercia Sound shows at the Coliseum in Hillfields. The minute we walked in we could have died - the place was full of young student types all wearing ripped denim jeans, scruffy tee shirts, denim jackets, all very casual. We didn't stay long!

Just been watching the Antiques Road Trip on TV and Christina Trevanion purchased a box with London Laundry (Coventry) Ltd on it she paid £15 and it sold for £18.

Do you remember the beautiful icy fern patterns that formed on your windows on frosty mornings in pre-central heating days? Our little flat only had a gas fire in the living room in 1968, and there used to be ice on the inside window sill in our baby's room. We had to buy one of those oil filled electric radiators that didn't seem to make much difference but cost an arm and a leg to run! It was our first home together, a second floor Council flat, that cost us all of two pounds seven and sixpence a week. My husband was still in the Royal Navy and was paid about sixteen pounds a week. Happy days though. I always think of the Neil Sedaka song The Hungry Years when I think back to those times - not that we ever went hungry though.

I was staggered when I heard this but when the council flats in Sherbourne Street were built in 1953 there was no provision for heating of any kind except for a two-bar electric fire in each living room. That situation continued until at least the 1990s although Whitefriars have since installed gas central heating in the flats which they now own.

The picture was taken before the block was completely finished although someone appears to have moved in already on the right hand side.

Our flat overlooked Alderman's Green Road and was on the Manor House Estate, not that far from the Slough. The flats at the back had a view of the old Manor Guildhouse, long since demolished. Come to think of it, we put the gas fire in ourselves as there was a coal fire and as hubby was away all week at Chatham in the Royal Navy, poor me had to hump the coal up three flights of stairs!

I was watching a couple of young ten year old boys the other day, spoilt children with all the gadgets money could buy, but bored to tears. And I got to thinking of my own childhood, and the days when I coaxed a lot of fun out of toys that cost nothing. We would knock a couple of holes in an old tin lid, put twisted string through and whirl it about your head much the same as Crocodile Dundee did so it made that humming noise, or the old fashioned keys that were hollow, we scraped the red off matches into the hollow, into this you inserted a two inch nail, tied a piece of string to the nail and to the key and smashed it against the wall and there was a loud explosion, we called it the key-banger. And the iron hoops, the noise of the hoops as I raced alongside was a pleasure of my youth, and the kazoo- tracing paper around a comb, that produced a sound like an angry bee. And what about the exhilaration of staggering on a pair of home-made stilts. I can't imagine I would have enjoyed a polite kind of youth, a succession of bought amusements, a noticeable lack of noise and danger. A patch on the pants, a lot of dirt, a lot of noise. A penny a week pocket money, and a few crude friends, and I was as happy as one could be.

I am so glad I was born when I was as I have very happy memories of my childhood games. The girls would play skipping, with a rope stretched across the road and one at each end turning it and we would take it in turns to run in without getting caught up in the rope. Then on our own we would do "bumpers", spinning the rope two or three times very fast while jumping in the air. Then there was Rat-a-tat-Ginger (knocking on someone's front door then beating a hasty retreat before they answered). In the late 50s my friend and I would make a guy, place him in a wheelbarrow, and knock on most of the "posh" houses in Broad Lane for a Penny for the Guy, which we always got. Couldn't do that these days! We also went carol singing, just the two of us, and made quite a lot of pennies, often being asked to step inside and finish singing the carol. When I was 11 I had a new bike for my birthday, so my friend and I, after packing up bottles of pop, crisps etc, biked all the way from Tile Hill to Kenilworth. Happy days! And I too remember making a kazoo with paper and a comb, and walking on home made stilts. Then much later on swishing around with a hula hoop around my middle, might be good to try now methinks!

Janey, yes, you could sing carols, then be invited in for a mince pie, by some old single gentleman and feel in no danger at all, front doors were left open, it was a time of trust, respect, and old English courtesy and I for one remember and relish those old times, I loved my childhood along with what people call discomforts now.

Next to our backdoor was a big rainwater butt, a wooden barrel about 6' tall 3' across, wider in the centre. Two of my younger uncles were mending my brother's bike, it was a very hot day and we were sharing a bottle of Corona Tizer pop, they started talking about how much pop was needed in the bottle for it to sink or float, things got a bit heated, so they scrambled onto the wooden stool, old chair with the arms and back sawn off and tested the bottle in the tub, and of course it sank, a big argument about the cost, who was going to the shop for another, so my youngest uncle went into the washing shed, stripped to his pants and then scrambled into the tub, found the bottle, the type with the wire where you used your thumbs to pop the stopper, but the bottle had filled with water, so with all the shouting he dropped it and scrambled out, went into the shed, dried off on a towel from the wash basket and put on his shirt and trousers. When mother came out she told us all to be quiet, we were waking the baby and what was all the noise about, so we told her. She turned to my uncle, heated, said you had better damn well get back in there and get the bottle, it will spoil the water, before your brother comes home, meaning my dad.

Before there was a lot of cars, there were a number of motor-bikes and sidecars, my Uncle Frank had such, in the sidecar rode my cousin, about three years older than me, she had blonde hair tied up in two plaits, like horns on her head, plump, and plain, she wore a pair of 'specs' with the right eye a white disc, and a gap in her teeth, so we were always teasing her, my brother gave her a present one Christmas, as she opened it she asked what is it, my brother said it's a left handed telescope, that made her cry while I was in stitches. My uncle was about 5' 6'' and seven stone, my aunt was taller and weighed about 16 stone, we used to giggle when they got on the bike, she wore a big leather coat and goggles, no helmets, it was amusing to see her trying to get on the bike, we expected the front wheel to rise off the ground. People from behind wondered how she was steering the bike from the back seat. So one day, uncle's sitting astride, and slamming his foot down on the starting rod, it coughed and spluttered, then gave a loud bang, the bread-man's horse whinnied and took off down the road, the bread-man chasing hard after it with his bread basket on his arm, he'd gone twenty yards before he put the basket down, and carried on after it but a neighbour caught it for him. About 15 years later I bumped into my cousin in town, God, she was ravishing, long blond hair, blue eyes and a lovely set of teeth, and a figure you could not take your eyes off. The chimney sweep used to tie his brushes along his crossbar with the brushes over the front wheel, we often used to make jokes about if he hit some one from behind what would happen to the brushes, but he would cycle down the street, stop at the milk-float, put his hand on the side of the float and chat to the milkman, while the milk-man was ladling out milk from the can into the jug of a woman customer, his sooty hand just a few inches from the open can. He was chatting to us one day outside the shop, when his girl-friend came out the shop and offered him a sweet, he was so pleased he put his hands round her cheeks and kissed her, and she pushed him off his bike.

Coventry in the thirties, seemed to me that if a stranger came to live in the street, first few weeks he would get a nod, then for a few weeks it would be a 'good morning' or a 'good afternoon' and maybe a tinkle from your bike bell if he was in the garden or such, after about six months he belonged to the street, and included in conversation or tittle-tattle.

During the winter months, doing jigsaw puzzles was a favourite pasttime, dad brought home a large jigsaw of a circus, keep us quiet for a few weeks, but everyone joined in, then a couple of cousins came in, followed by my aunt, then a neighbour popped in, there were so many fingers it was finished in less than an hour. I got so 'mardy' dad bought me another, a 'Forest Fire', every piece looked the same, some puzzle. Same with Meccano, start to build a crane, cousins, uncles came in, and in a few minutes ran out of Meccano and the damn thing almost touched the ceiling. But when it came to 'fag' cards then we had a set in no time. In the mid-thirties cars were so few and far between we could sit on the doorstep for hours and take car numbers without missing one.

During the thirties, round my area, any guy seen wearing navy or dark trousers with brown shoes, it was always said he comes from Bedworth, how it came about I have no idea.