My Old Town

My Old Town

I was reading about my old town on a Facebook group I belong to. It was lovely to see old photos of the place.

One man was complaining bitterly about the state the park had got into. And the fact that their council did nothing to stop the drunks and vandals and kids gathering there at night and creating havoc. What a shame, it was a wonderful park that I played in as a child, and so did my daughter.

The Park in My Old Town

It was well looked after with a park keeper who used to lock the gates – and woe betide if you were caught on the inside. He was really strict. War broke out if he caught anybody walking on the manicured lawns and flower beds. Put it this way, if you got caught you never did it again, fearing his wrath bearing down on you.

Those were the days, when children were brought up to respect authority. Be it a policeman, teacher, doctor or anyone in a profession. Policemen were to be very respected – especially as they were the ones with the power to tell our mum’s and dad’s – which would be even more awful. I think the police are too matey-matey with people today, along with all the other professions. If we talked back and argued like they do today we’d have got hung drawn and quartered. But that was when we were taught right from wrong and how far you could go without being in serious trouble. Not everyone was an angel of course, but by and large there was a lot of respect for older people in general, not what you see today.

I could go rambling on. But suffice to say I read a long version about the way that things have changed for the worse and not the better. Today, it’s more a question of ‘will I get a knife between my shoulder blades if I take these people on’.

The High Street in My Old Town

Anyway, back to the old photos on this group about where I grew up. They’re fascinating, all the old black and white photos going back to the late eighteen and early nineteen hundreds. Our town was a very old town, named in the Domesday Book. The church where I got married was Norman and I’d love to know more about its past history. I know we had a manor with someone titled living there – it may still be there. On the photos I was looking at was the High Street where people dressed in Edwardian clothes and along what looks like a dirt road. As a child I can remember most of the old shops – all eventually replaced by newer, more modern buildings.

I must be a dinosaur though – these photos show the old places where I used to go. It was all originally farmland, with two farms on what’s now the High Street. I clearly remember going to one of them at the very end of the road. It was still a working farm where me and a friend used to go to get hay for our rabbits. I remember it so well. The smell of fresh hay and all the animal and noise sounds around a farm. The photos brought it all straight back to me.

Gloomy shops…

I remember most of the shops as being gloomy with a lot of heavy, solid wood mahogany fittings – they’d be worth a fortune today. I remember going in one of the shops before it moved to a road just off the High Street. An ironmongers which sold everything your heart could desire.

From the smallest thing to the largest – he had it – talk about Aladdin’s cave. When I was first married we bought a lot of things from there, including an ironing board (which I still use) to paraffin for our heater – there wasn’t central heating back then!

There was another shop which sold groceries and the like. When you went in there were sacks of rice, flour and all the similar things you needed to make your bread and food. There was no going to the shops for a loaf back then. All the things you needed – like sugar, tea etc they sold – but nothing was pre-packed. So you had to wait until they weighed out what you wanted and put it in a paper bag. Strong blue ones for heavy stuff, and lighter ones for the not so heavy.

Best Butter

Butter was always on a marble slab, similar to a round cheese, with a piece cut off with a wire cutter to the weight you wanted, then wrapped in greaseproof paper. This was known as ‘best butter’ and was delicious, especially on crusty hot homemade bread, mmmmmm.

Biscuits were in big tins, not pre-packed of course. The broken ones were put on one side to sell at a lot cheaper price, so nothing got wasted. Vinegar was always in wooden barrels with a tap to drain it into a jug – then decanted into a bottle that you brought with you. The smells and sight of all these things was so prominent, especially cheese. Of course there weren’t fridges in shops in those days. That’s why things like butter were kept on marble, to keep them cooler.

The amazing thing about cheese and butter was that the people who cut it always got just about the correct weight every time.

I could go rambling on my about my childhood but would still be here this time tomorrow. So I’ll sign off before you all start moaning about how much there is!

Some other things to look at –

While you’re here…

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