Childhood & Sentimental memories

Winsome_2

I remmeber the bri-nylon nighties.......... they were so uncomfortable and the static was horrendous, especially when combined with they nylon sheets etc (I was a 70's child).... also the sheets were revolting combinations of brown, mustard, orange and purple!

I also remember mum getting duvets for us all for the first time and thinking taht she was amazingly uptodate....

foodwise - spam fritters (And corned beef fritters too!) curry made from minced beef, curry powder and frozen peas with rasins or chopped apple added, bacon egg and chips for dinner on a friday night, vesta curries and chinese meals with those lovely curly noodles (I tried ona a few years back - it was minging!), fray bentos pies and heinze tinned sponge puddings with birds custard..........

and going on holiday with lots of kids, a dog and a sheep (don't even ask!!!!!) in the back of a landrover towing a caravan that contained several cats we used to leave at stupid-o'clock in the morning and ahve breakfast at the first motorway service station we came to - Oxtail soup out of a flask (tinned naturally!) and jam doughnuts....

Merlot

Winsome wrote: »

I remmeber the bri-nylon nighties.......... they were so uncomfortable and the static was horrendous, especially when combined with they nylon sheets etc (I was a 70's child).... also the sheets were revolting combinations of brown, mustard, orange and purple!

I also remember mum getting duvets for us all for the first time and thinking taht she was amazingly uptodate....

foodwise - spam fritters (And corned beef fritters too!) curry made from minced beef, curry powder and frozen peas with rasins or chopped apple added, bacon egg and chips for dinner on a friday night, vesta curries and chinese meals with those lovely curly noodles (I tried ona a few years back - it was minging!), fray bentos pies and heinze tinned sponge puddings with birds custard..........

and going on holiday with lots of kids, a dog and a sheep (don't even ask!!!!!) in the back of a landrover towing a caravan that contained several cats we used to leave at stupid-o'clock in the morning and ahve breakfast at the first motorway service station we came to - Oxtail soup out of a flask (tinned naturally!) and jam doughnuts....

Are you my sister? this is almost like my childhood memories but without the sheep!

SPARKY16

pounds_and_pensive

that comment about sitting with your back to the fire reminded me we were told not to sit with our back to the fire because it would melt our spine LOL

i can remember the rag man coming round and for a few rags he would give you a goldfish a few people lost some of their clothes that way the kids would run out with them and the mothers running after them :rotfl:

[Deleted User]

One year my late ma-in-law bought me a revolting purple bri-nylon nighte that had a ruffled neck and went from my collar bone to my ankles.She definitly didn't want more grandchildren as it was a real passion-killer:eek: .I being tacful used to take it with me and leave it lying on our bed at her house so she thought I was wearing it but really wore my normal cotton 'baby-dolls' in bed. She never sussed me out, -or did she- and the following year she said 'I've bought you another nightie as you seemed to wear the other one all the time when you come to visit' I could never get one over on Clara she was one smart cookie:rotfl: :rotfl: :rotfl: Brentford Nylons should have been permanantely banned as their sheets were horrible and full of static. I d9on't even like polyester ones I perfer ordinary white cotton ones on my beds

Reading through this thread its obvious how much people loved their Mums and Dads even though they probably never had a fraction of what todays children get.Simple things like haveing a daft dad to give you a crossbar and sing to you and Mums and nanas who did little more than feed and cuddle their children People didn'n't have much money but they left a far greater legacy in the following generations minds
Of course things sometimes were bad or you were cold or hungry but the overall memories is of the love and care given to you from your families which is more important than ps2s or designer trainers.There seemed to be slighlty less greed and avarice in those days as everyone was in the same boat.Children didn't become mini adults at ten and sex was rarely spoken of until you were maybe 14-15.Teachers didn't teach 11 years old about condom or point 12 year old girls towards the family planning clinic .There seemed to be an invisible line between adults and children that few ever crossed Respect for grown-ups was taken for granted and respect for the law in particular.Kids got up to mischief as they always will do but not the mindless violence of todays little tearaways.If a plod caught you misbehaving you got a clip around the ear and dragged you home to your dad You got another wallop for bring 'shame' to your Mums front doorstep.
Children had no 'rights' only duties to their parents ,school and country It wasn't such a bad way to bring up kids

rosieben

Just remembered something else -

being told by our junior school headmaster to bring a piece of coloured glass or coloured cellophane into school, and then all of us being taken out to the school yard to watch a solar eclipse (about 1958 I think)

I took a piece of orange cellophane, used to get it wrapped around bottles of lucozade, other kids took broken pieces of glass bottles etc - and guess what, we all survived!!! no smothering h&s then, we could live!

elaine373

I have only just seen this thread and reading it has brought back alot of memories.
Good memories-
My beloved mum.
The `pop ` man. Had forgotten about him until i read this thread. Bonfire night, coz we had most of the kids in our road at our house, built a big bonfire and did jacket potato`s,beans sausages, etc.
Blitzing the house on a sunday morning listening to the `record` player. (stylistics,barry white , elton john, queen to name a few)
we never got all the work done but had great fun with our mum.
sunday lunch was great but the cabbage was always put on too early.Years later we teased and laughed about this.(sorry mum)
chilling in front of the tv later on, eating swiss roll and sandwhiches or toast.
Having a go on my brothers chopper bike.
waiting for the farmer to cut the grass in the field behind our house and making straw houses when the grass had dried.
Pushing my dolly pram around the same field, playing mums and babies with my mate. One of us was married to Donny osmond and the other david cassidy!!!!!! lol that really makes me laugh.Later on, wearing tartan scarves tucked into my trousers because the Bay city rollers had arrived.

Not so good memories-
Cant remember my dad being sober, but at the time it was the norm for us.(Made it easy to get ice-cream money out of him)
sunday evenings were spent pulling up the ends of the lino to look for pennies and halfpennies until we had enough to get a 10p to put the electric back on.(actually that isnt such a bad memory coz we seemed to do it every week)
Wouldnt it be great to have an afternoon from our past..........

Olliebeak

Peoples comments about parents sayings tickled me.

I'm from St.Helens in South Lancashire (now Merseyside) and I heard the 'there and back to see how far it is' many times.

If I was pestering about what was for tea - the answer was either: 'two jumps at the pantry door and a bite of the latch!', 'you can share the bone with the dog', or 'fresh air butties' (two slices of bread and marg with nothing in the middle!).

If we were sitting unladylike or doing somersaults we got told off for 'showing next week's washing'!

Thursdays were 'bally-ann' day - no money left in the purse or pocket and meals were concocted from whatever there was left in the cupboard! but I can never remember a time when there wasn't a decent meal on the table even when grandad was on strike for a few weeks at one time. During the strike, my comics and sweets were stopped (obviously), grandads pints stopped, grandmother stopped shopping in the corner shop (too expensive) and we walked to the town centre instead of getting the bus. Everything came from the market and there were things like bread and dripping on the menu. Luckily the strike didn't last too long - phew I missed my Bunty :rotfl: .

Sola

Oh - memory lane ...

Dad cooking rashers of bacon in tinned tomatoes for breakfast. Dad's homemade chips.

Sheets and old scratchy tartan blankets on the bed - duvets (pronounced 'du-vetts') were for exotic people.

Being sick on the carpet when I saw a sheep giving birth on TV. Wanting to dig up the dead cat to see what it looked like.

Being in love with Enid Blyton's boarding school books and having a midnight feast with my sister of pilchards and fruit cake.

Being a fairy in the nativity play and crying because I was on the wrong side of the stage.

Endless all-day bike rides in the country lanes - bliss. Building a camp in the woods and cooking baked beans in a pan over a fire. Playing pretend horses, jumping over benches in the playground. Being chased by the school goat.

The biggest excitement ever - a group of gypsies rounding up a herd of horses which had escaped and thundered up our road into the park opposite, and everyone helping to catch them.

Making a den with sheets attached to the curtains with clothes pegs.

Adults talking in that special tone of voice, and knowing they were saying something we shouldn't hear so listening extra hard.

Trying to stay awake on Christmas Eve to catch Father Christmas filling the pillowcases and STILL not twigging it was Dad in Mum's red dressing gown.

Laughing at Monty Python with Dad, and Mum not finding it funny at all. Playing cat's cradle with elastic.

Nan making me eat bread and dripping with salt and pepper.

A birthday meal at McDonalds when it opened in our town - it seemed so cool compared to Wimpy.

Sliced apple dipped in a saucer of sugar.

Kipper sandwiches or boiled eggs and soldiers for Saturday tea. Being able to ask for and get the really crispy bits in the chip shop. Having crabsticks from the fish van, and Nan eating winkles with a pin.

Those appalling fake packet cheesecakes for Sunday pudding. Every week. For about 18 months.

My Mum's pastry - the best in the world. Her sausage rolls never lasted long enough to freeze. Top of the milk or tinned sterilised cream with tinned strawberries. Learning to make tea with proper loose tea and a teapot. Fighting my sister for the skin on rice puddings but retching at custard skin. Steamed jam pudding boiled for hours in a closed tupperware tub and pan of water. The smell of my Dad making marmalade, and demijohns of wine in the airing cupboard. Being allowed a single small Harveys Bristol Cream on Christmas morning. Viennettas and arctic rolls. Frozen mousses with indented bases to make wild bird moulds with plaster which we painted.

Mum's 1950s cookbook with no covers it had been used so much (she still has it and I intend to snaffle it along with her steamed pudding tupperware).

Playing 'Dead Princess' in the bath - floating a Pippa on a sponge with a wet flannel over her.

Kerplunk, Operation, Bucking Bronco, Dump The Daisy.

My Dad's garage and the endless variety of screws and nails all in a multicompartment box unit. Dad making a mini windmill thing of a man turning a handle over a well. Dad digging the pond in the front garden.

Being forced to use talcum powder (why?)

My first shower instead of a bath. Seeing my Mum in trousers for the first time. Mum and Dad going out ballroom dancing on a Saturday night, and snuggling with Nan on the settee to watch the Generation Game.

My aunt knitting us jumpers each year which never fitted properly. She made me a dress one year in cable knit which swept along the ground instead of being kneelength.

Not being allowed to eat angel delight. Boil-in-the-bag cod in cheese sauce with brown bread and butter. Tinned cods roe fried in butter and smeared on toast. Tasting coffee, tuna and mushrooms for the first time in my teens. Loving camp coffee made with all milk.

An ice cream cone with a 99 flake being the ultimate holiday treat.

Going apple and strawberry picking at the local pick-your-own nursery. Picking blackberries over the fields for crumble. Nan shelling peas and stringing runner beans into a colander in the garden while wearing her housecoat. Hot Ribena.

The ultimate comfort tea when you were feeling ill - Jacob's cream crackers with butter and cheddar, and Heinz Cream of Tomato soup.

Mum's old twintub with wooden tongs which was a daylong operation every Tuesday. Being allowed up into the loft. The milkman providing orange juice in milk bottles.

Those Lucky Dip bags with the best toffee in the world. Wearing long dresses to birthday parties.

Discovering those little pats of Nutella. Dad cracking a slab of toffee and nuts with a little hammer. Syrup sandwiches.

My Nan's loo at the bottom of the garden, and the old tin bath in the kitchen. Being scared of staying overnight in her cottage because it was so dark and musty.

Getting our first colour TV (it was a Bush) and watching Pink Panther.

Salad cream. With everything.

Growing petunias and pansies from seed.

Mum boiling coley portions for the cats. Making my first meal for the family - spag bol.

Cheese and onion crisp sandwiches.

Riding lessons in the depths of winter where your feet froze in your boots, and drinking oxtail soup from a flask to warm up.

Setting off at 4am for the summer holiday and stopping along the motorway for a fry-up on a little stove. Those variety packs of cereal - we only ever had them on holiday.

The first morning of the summer holidays when everything seemed possible and the holiday was going to last FOR EVER. Reading Pratchett and Gaiman's Good Omens is so nostalgic for me.

Ah - happy days We were so blessed in our childhood - I could wish the same for everyone.

MRSMCAWBER

I remember 2 weeks in skeggy/mablethorp/jingglebells(ingoldmels to everyone else)... every year without fail... in term time :eek: .... headmistress knew mum n dad, and appretiated that they made sure we had a jolly every year - even though money was tight..

A proper "tin roofed" caravan...so rain sounded like thunder..., every morning dad would be up early for a walk to the sea front and a cuppa - not before throwing bread on the caravan roof so we all woke to the sound of thunder as the seagulls attacked the roof:rotfl:

Trooping across the site to find the loos n showers, gas lights.. loved that smell....the gas lights not the loo :rotfl:

We used to take the bulk of the groceries with us... had cereal, followed by a full english, toast n jam -every morning... how mum did that on 2ft of worktop and 2 rings - for 6 of us i will never know

We used to come back for tea...mum used to get the potatoes ready rummbled from the man in the chippy and do a proper dinner -again "HOW?"

Back home...grandad sneaking to see mum for some "home baking/cooking" as mama wasnt very good in the kitchen and bought all the new fancy ready made stuff:rolleyes: ....where as mum made everything from scratch mmmm

Same grandad declaring that mama wasnt to do sausage, eggs n bacon as that would make 3 meals :rotfl: ....visitors never knew if he was serious.... he was.... but mama paid no attention to the "tight old b*gger"... they always had butter, creamcakes, cheese, best ham, icecream, salmon, .... grandad was quite happy with 2 slices of bread with bacon..and he was a huge man who worked down the pit all his working life.

Mama standing the loaf of bread on its end, spreading the end with butter and then cutting across.. always puzzled me and still does...then grandad going to cut some later an moaning as mama could never cut it straight so grandad ended up with weired slices.... a routine me n hubby go through now :rotfl: i cant for the life of me cut it straight...even with one of those silly gadgets where you put your knife between two notches

Just started reading solas post...... i still call it a duv-ett:rotfl: i will now finish reading your post :T

Ok im back........Brazil nut toffee with the metal hammer...even as a teenager, i would get grandad a selection one of those with the hammer...

Camp coffee mmmm still love that... have you had it made with all cold milk? better than that Frappe stuf they sell... my dad was giving me that as a tot... he could have made a fortune if he had patented it years ago, before nescafe did:rolleyes:

pounds_and_pensive

We used to be promised 'a kick at the pantry door' too if we nattered too much over what was for tea, or worse, 'warm snot on a cold plate!' (I come from a very cultured family )

Looking back, what strikes me most apart from the love that's so obvious with everyone else too, is that however bleak things looked, something always turned up eventually, and often from the most unlikeliest of sources. I can remember one period during the late seventies when money had been particularly tight - the brasses had disappeared from the walls again and had spent longer in the pawn shop than usual, mammoth baking sessions had ceased for the time being, my dad's roll-ups were so thin he might as well have been smoking fresh air and, something which had NEVER been allowed to happen before, there was no home brew in the house to drink. We were adequately fed of course - my mum and dad would've starved first before letting us go hungry, but since my dad was used to having a drink every night, the atmosphere in the house was awful, so one evening we decided to escape it by going to the library round the corner. When we got home, my Dad decided he'd done one alcohol-free day too many. It was no good, he said, he'd have to go for a bottle of cider. I don't think he had any intention of doing so, but just needed to get out of the house as badly as we did. Within minutes, he was back. "Look what I've just found!" he said incredulously as he showed us the twenty-seven pound notes that had been scattered around the front garden. That was still quite a bit in those days, and we could only conclude that it had dropped out of one of the library books we'd brought home. He got his bottle of cider, and the brasses soon came back from their holiday

That's definitely the most dramatic instance I can think of, but it does seem to be true - something always DOES turn up from somewhere