Easier to be OS in the olden days?

Goldiegirl

My mum actually was the pools lady. She'd go out every Thursday evening to do the round. When she came back I'd help her count up the cash. It was much more interesting pre 1971, as there was always the possibility of a really old coin turning up in the change.

At Saturday tea time my dad would write down all the football results so he could check his coupon. I didn't dare breathe, let alone talk while the results were on!

meritaten

its funny isn't it Goldie - I never heard anyone say 'The pools man' it was always the 'The pools lady'! our pools lady must have been staggering under the weight of all those halfpennies, pennies and thruppences! I mean - Thursday night and nobody got paid 'til Friday! a good many settees must have got turned upside down on Thursdays!
Did you turn up some interesting old coins?

meritaten

I forgot the most popular 'traveller' nan used to call him the 'Tinker'. he sold Sewing things and ribbons. mum bought loads of ribbon from him! and I mean yards and yards of it. she used to cut it into 'lengths' and fishtail the ends..... and he did darning wool, needles, lace, knicker elastic he was a walking haberdashery! mum bought so much ribbon because she insisted on my hair being long (it was down past my waist) and was very fine and silky. so each morning she would do my hair in plaits or ponytail or bunches and put on ribbons to match my dress - and at the end of school I would return minus ribbons! they would just fall out of my hair without me noticing! so I nearly always had a slap when getting home from school! Nan used to say 'Bren, why don't you just let her have her hair cut'? but I was 11 before she would let me.
it was years before mum accepted that I would never have ringlets like Shirley Temple (her ideal of what a child should look like). I have had to sleep with soaking wet hair in rags, dry hair in rags, damp hair in curlers (ouch - spiky and they hurt), had 'sugar water' combed through - the wasps loved me! and within half hour my hair would be dead straight again!rofl

psso

I had the same problem as you meritaten, poker straight hair and a mum who wanted a curly haired daughter. Remember the palaver well trying to get it right, usually for a school photo, oh the pain.

She even went as far as taking me to the hairdresser to have it permed.
Sat for what seemed like ages with the stinky stuff on my hair then got told in no uncertain terms not to get it wet - stay out of the rain, don't wash it for days etc.
Got up the next morning...........straight as a poker again !! Mum was not amused and called the poor girl every name she could think of.
Just not supposed to have curls.:)

[Deleted User]

How about the Kleen-ezee man who came around door-to-door selling polish,dusters and a large mop-like thing that polished the lino, all of which was brought out of his brown suitcase .
At least once a year we had a very exotic chap with a great big droopy moustache on a bicycle with strings of onions around his neck, 'Onion Johnny',he spoke very little english, but always haggled with the housewives over the price,(my Mum always seemed to beat him down.)
Our house always smelt of lavender polish, and on a Saturday afternoon I, as the youngest always seemed to get nabbed for polishing the brasses that my Mum had a collection of. I hated that job,along with black leading the kitchen range which my Mum taught me to do before I was 10.I swore I would never inflict brasses on my family when I married and I never have had a piece of brasswork in my house (scarred me for life all that blooming polishing :) )My late Mum always had all of her housework done and dusted by 12.30 when I got in from school for lunch,Workers playtime was on the wireless and when it finished I had to walk back to school mile and a half each way ,all weathers, across Blackheath in London.Blooming cold in the winter (never shut our school no matter how much snow there was.There was only four classes in the whole school and the top class 9-11 year olds was the best as the great big coal fired boiler was in there so if you got wet clothes you could stick them in turns over the fire guards to dry them off,plus it was the warmest class room. In my class there were between 39-42 children in each class, and we all feared Miss Knott our headmistress ,she was a real dragon and her eyes seemed to be everywhere.the school was only small as in those days, late 1940s early 50s Blackheath really was a small village, not the upmarket 'posh' place it is nowadays.Our milk can on a horse and cart daily and the gold top milk was so creamy my brothers and I would argue whose turn it was to get the 'top of the milk' The baker and coal man delivered and my Mum would watch the latter like a hawk and would not accept coal if the weather had been very rainy as she said the sack would weigh heavy if they were wet so she would be short changed with coal, and got help the coal man if there were too much nutty slack or crushed up bit of coal in her delivery We had a large coal cellar come junk area just off the scullery so Mum would watch with a steely-eye whilst it was being tipped in.I think after all these years I daresay I could still lay a fire with twisted up paper and wood and carefully arranged coal My brother's job was to keep the wood stored up for Mum so late saturday afternoons they would go to Lewisham Market with their trolly and bring home wooden orange boxes and chop them up into the neat stack at the other side of the cellar.Mum had a large bottle of Meth that was kept in the cellar for the times when the wood was a bit damp and she would splash a bit over the wood and it soon flared up and dried it off one a match was lit.No health and safety in those days, just a strict warning about not touching things that only adults were allowed to touch.My late Dad had a cut throat razor that he kept in a wooden box with a big leather strop as well, and as far back as I can remember we were told never to touch it almost on pain of death as it could take your finger off it was so sharp.Disipline was paramount back then I had would have never dared rebel against my parents.One look from either of them was enough to quell the most naughty child

cuddlymarm

Good morning

All this is bringing back memories Our milk was brought by my Auntie Lily who had a small farm about 500 yards away from our house. It went from cow to a cooler/ strainer type machine and then into bottles. No such thing as skimmed or semi and I refused to drink milk for weeks when the health people insisted on all milk being pasteurised cos it tasted funny.
Does anyone remember having a knitting Nancy ( a bobbin with 4 nails and you made long thin tubes of knitting. )
Oh memories

Cuddles

Caterina

cuddlymarm wrote: »

Good morning

....
Does anyone remember having a knitting Nancy ( a bobbin with 4 nails and you made long thin tubes of knitting. )
Oh memories

Cuddles

My father made me one of those when I was little! In Sardinia they called it the monkey's sock, and my father used to do it as a student, to relax while studying for his Uni exams, in the 40s (after the war).

mardatha

You never forget how to lay a fire... I've had a coal fire all my life apart from 12 years in a highrise flat, and I wouldn't ever like to be without it. I don't mind the cleaning out it only takes 2 minutes a day, and that fire stay son 24/7 most of the year. My sooky blanket lol!
The strongest memory I have of childhood is playing outside ALL the time, hardly ever being in. When it was wet I played in the shed, where my dad kept budgies.
And I always went to the Store (co-op) for "half a pound of mince and a half stane o tattie please" - it's engraved in my brain lol

Doveling

We used to get the gypsies in the summer when they came to help with the harvest on local farms. The women would come knocking on doors with paper flowers, pegs and lucky white heather and ask "Any spare clothes for the chillun missus?". My Grandma sent me to the caravans with a bag of clothes once and one of the ladies showed me how to make a paper flower. I must have only been about six:eek: Trusting times!

meritaten

you know Jackie - I think he probably did work for Kleeneze! but he was 'The brush man' to us! I can still remember him coming when I was ten and we were just moving to our new home! Good thing mum bought a good stiff yard brush, and some scrubbing brushes - they were put to good use to remove about 40 years of filth off the lino! (not kidding you - the council didn't send any one round to clean in those days - you had to do it yourself - but ours was so dirty mum complained and someone came to see - and she got three weeks rent-free! ). I know exactly who lived there before - A retired headmaster (also a bard at the eistedfodd), and his wife a published author (historian - not fiction). But mum cursed them up hill and down dale for being 'dirty bu99ers). and I scrubbed floors till my hands were raw! But, it was a lovely house - still is! mum still lives there - fifty years this year!