Today I’ve been feeling rather nostalgic; over on Facebook all of my old school friends seem to be talking about “the good old days”, when Duckula was on TV, Blind Date was still cool and meal times were a family event with everybody sat around a table that was rich with conversation and togetherness. My generation was the last to grow up the old-fashioned way and the first to experience technology.
When I was very young I used to ride my bicycle around the street I lived in, and I had to come in when called home. My parents are from a generation in which you reserved one room for Sundays and special events only, so that’s what we did. Sunday was all about Dad carving the turkey followed by reading or TV for us kids and washing up for Mum, and then later Dad would open up the “lounge” (now his main living room) to tune the radio so that we could have our usual dancing and board games and wait for the Top Twenty. For two very young children, those times were magical and the house seemed filled with love.
We didn’t have a telephone for years, so when we could finally afford one I was very excited. I always used to race Mum to answer the phone in case it was my Grampy. Our first microwave was also a big event in our house and Mum and I used to love watching as a chicken was slowly rotissiered on a Sunday. Mum was over the moon when she bought her pressure cooker (which she still has!) and used it at every opportunity.
Back then Vesta meals were a treat and not an everyday convenience food. The Pot Noodle had yet to be invented and my favourite toys were my climbing tree and my swing – also the paddling pool in the summer months. On my sister’s birthday all of our school friends would invade the garden and we’d play pass the parcel and pin the tail on the donkey.
My birthday is in the winter months and so my parties had to be somewhat smaller. However, we would somehow cram twenty or so children into the lounge for games, gift unwrapping and my uncle’s performance as a magician. Our usual living room would turn into the buffet – with our dining table groaning under the weight of enough food to feed several armies. Mum still does this for family get-togethers!
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Things changed when my parents divorced and my sister and I went to live with our grandmother, but they were happy times. I lived closer to a lot of my friends, so if we weren’t all out cycling in the neighbourhood my friends were seeking me out at the local playing field so that they could join me on the swings and play with my dog.
Every summer we would spend two weeks in Croyde, North Devon, in a bungalow that was leased out to my Dad’s stepfather. I remember combing my long hair dry, sat out on the veranda whilst watching the sun setting over the sea. We were high on a hill and could see the beach and most of the town from where we were situated. Croyde is merely Surfer Central these days, but back then it was a lovely place to be. Very “Olde Worlde” and quiet, quite unlike the tourist trap it has now become.
Back at home, my Nan and I had developed a routine which was never deviated from. Dad’s stepfather rented an allotment and was constantly bringing produce home. Nan and I would bake cakes and then shell peas, string runner beans or prepare cauliflower and sprouts for cooking later while the cakes were in the oven. Once a month we would sit opposite each other in the kitchen/diner, chatting and polishing the brass or the silver and, when Nan was doing the ironing I would sit at the breakfast bar doing any left-over homework or petting the dog, listening and asking questions as she talked about her wartime childhood.
Sundays always began with swimming after breakfast, and then a good walk on the local hill after Sunday lunch. I used to help prune and weed the garden plants and borders, learning as I went along and loving every moment. Quite often I’d wander into one of the front rooms to play my organ or watch my Dad on his Commodore 64, or go into the room opposite to challenge somebody at table tennis. The closest I came to actual computer gaming was Attack Of The Mutant Camels on the Commodore, or Space Invaders and Night Driver on the Atari that Dad had bought second hand from a friend.
There were no push-button or cordless telephones and only the very well off (“Yuppies”) could afford the giant bricks that were mobile phones in the late eighties.
As a disabled person I am glad that technology evolved so that it can keep me in touch with friends and the outside world. It also means that I can occasionally risk going out alone, knowing that help is a quick phone call away.
All the same, I am glad to have had an outdoorsy, innocent and fun childhood. I climbed trees, fell off swings and pushbikes and was introduced to the beautiful flora and fauna which is all around us. I experienced all elements of weather, enjoyed long walks and loved my private time with my Nan. By the time I was fifteen we had already reached the “hang around the town centre because there’s nothing else to do and watch TV in your room or listen to music” stage. Those were lonely times because my generation didn’t really know what to do with them, and so I cherish the memories of the very real childhood I had – getting muddy, suffering nettle stings and having almost permanent bruises from various accidents.
I like this post very much! xx
Thanks Penny. I remember throwing myself into huge piles of red and gold leaves, building snowmen in the garden and using rosehips on my sister as itching powder. So many things that kids just don’t do any more. I even know of a family back in my home town whose children had to ask me what a cow is; it’s so sad
I was talking about this just last night with hubs and saying that we are so grateful the internet wasn’t around when we were kids (or at least wasn’t in every house). If we ever have little ‘uns, I’d love to raise them somewhere in the country, far away from technological distractions…but that’s prob v unrealistic. Your childhood sounds quite idyllic, it makes me miss the UK countryside
I grew up in The Cotswolds and the countryside is beautiful. Here in Essex the countryside is even *more* beautiful – you can drive anywhere and go past a field full of hare or deer
It was wonderful read about your childhood. Thank you for sharing. I love the Cotswolds. Essex is probably the only shire I have never been to in England. Someday I would love to hear you tell about it.
I recently wrote a blog about my city; I’ve yet to come up with one about our lovely countryside but I’ll get onto it!
Beautiful it all made me cry !
I have to admit to shedding a happy nostalgic tear or two as I composed this
Love this post, Missus T! Might have to post a similar one, myself, sometime.
Yes, I, too, grew up “out in the sticks,” and always had bruises, cuts, and scrapes growing up! This brought back great memories for me, just as I see it did for you. What a great read! :-]
Thanks, and I hope you do write something similar – what we had growing up has been sadly lost to the internet and the XBox and kids today really don’t know what being a kid is really all about.
The house in Croyde backed onto woodland, and so my sister, my cousins and I would hop over the stile after lunch and make the trees our fort. Sometimes, when he was younger and fitter, the dog would jump the stile too, and get us to throw sticks.
Most of my Nan’s family remained farmers, and so I was quite used to spending whole days in south Wales, playing Poohsticks, being slurped on by calves and falling into nettle patches! What’s childhood without a good old bout of nettle rash?
I’m loving this post.
Thank you. I enjoyed writing it
Childhood is supposed to be about climbing and falling out of trees, of going for long walks and getting lost, of falling off your bike and generally spending time with each other, outside, away from parental intervention and using your imagination to be the characters you’d seen from the cartoons on TV.
Thank you for reminding me of that!
Children today honestly don’t know what they’re missing out on, do they? Their lives are so different to the childhoods we had!
I feel for my nieces and my nephew, not being able to go out and do these sorts of things. Although the nephew is currently still a bit young anyway as he’s not yet even 18 months old! I think my older niece is looking forward to going to high school this September, because she’ll get a bit of independence – but there are times when I wonder how she’d cope if she were to say miss the bus home from school.
I often feel that the new generation has missed out on playing outside without parental supervision, falling over, hurting yourself and carrying on playing without being a primadonna, getting lost and finding your own way back home or learning to sort out their quarrels with their friends without adult intervention. I wouldn’t swap my childhood for anything in the world and really feel computers are overrated, even if we met through one…
I quite agree with you! I used to love exploring on my pushbike and taking an unknown path just to see where it went! I only sought help from a stranger once after injuring myself, and that was when I came flying off a swing and took a decent-sized chunk out of my elbow and it wouldn’t stop bleeding (I probably really needed stitches but I got a thick, deep, rather impressive scar instead -which has stretched to almost look like the rest of my elbow as I’ve aged).
Ah! The good old days! We are truly showing our age! LOL!
What a delightful post! Thank you for helping me to remember many things I had forgotten, over the years.
You make me feel old! Not in a bad way, but each generation believe itself to have been ‘the last’ of something. My generation was the last to do O levels and the idea of having a telly in your own room didn’t occur to us. I got my first computer (an Acorn Atom, built by my brother from a mail-order kit) while my school had a single desktop computer, that you could access only by joining a Computer Club.
But kids will be kids. Yes, we climbed trees, rode bikes and fell over. It saddens me to read that today’s children are encouraged to stay indoors.
My generation was the first to do GCSEs – I remember the gradual phasing out of O Levels and CSEs and I still don’t understand the difference!
O levels were more difficult than CSEs. I don’t recall whether a low-grade O level could be converted into a CSE, but I think not. So GCSEs were supposed to be more inclusive.
Were you actually in the first year group who did GCSE? I ask because I’m proud of having been in the last year group who did O level. Not sure why I’m proud, really! perhaps because I enjoy watching students’ jaws drop when I tell them that I have O levels. Likewise when I tell them that we didn’t have computers, let alone the Internet. And that I used to read books in the Radcliffe Science Library (part of the Bodleian) by finding their details in a card index, filling in a form and waiting for the books to be brought up from Stacks. Then I’d write essays with pen and paper.
Those card indexes were still there last time I needed to use the RSL, including the cards naming everybody who’s sworn the Bodleian oath (‘I will not kindle fire or flame’ etc). So at age32 or so, I told the RSL receptionist that I was already a Bod member, and within seconds she had in her hand a photo of the way I’d looked at 18.
Oh isn’t it fun taking this trip down Memory Lane! Thanks for starting it.