Childhood
In days gone by we would pick n’ mix in Woolies for sweets and tasty bits, shops full of goodies to make the eyes stare if they did not have it we would shop elsewhere, sent out by mum up to the shops or down to John’s for a pound of chops. It was always like that I never knew why it was up to Barking or down the Heathway up to Gale street or down the green, eggs were penny three farthings each seen, vinegar was cheap sold out of a barrel on tap as long as you took your own bottle. Fish n’ Meat spread sold out of a tub, and you never got food poising that was the rub. Fish n’ Chips wrapped in news paper, lashings of salt that was the capper, tuppence worth of crackling and a bread roll what a feast what self control. Standing outside the pub with our lemonades while mum and dad inside with uncle and aunt jollied it up with songs and laughter while sister and me wished the night to be swifter. A long line of kids with their mums at Doctor’s all align for a cube of sugar that tasted foul to save us from polio and an iron lung chew it or suck it we all did scowl then an injection to protect us from a disease from a cow. Dad’s on the panel or is he on strike no sweets this week so unsportsmanlike, six weeks a year he was told when he started, during the summer we always down tools as soon as the governors want to break rules, then off to the Lido or building a bike the frame from a stream the wheels from a mate makes good his time whilst at the meetings he adjudicates. Mum’s out at four she catches the train up to London cleaning offices before the workers arrive then back home before school time. Now we’re away Emmy arrives mum starts the brew they both contrive a witches caldron of gin and cailaway seeds to stop the unwanted pregnancy. I lay on the floor with my ear to the set, The voice of America there’s no war as yet the Russians are coming with ships full of rockets Mr Castro from Cuba I thought was an oil Dad tells mum the world is in turmoil, The Yank from Ireland is standing his ground, they said on the wireless we would get a four minute warning, four minutes for what mum asks dad, well long enough for you to look for the cat. The Russians backed down we all gave a sigh we feared the bomb yet it’s just another way to die, as Kennedy found out in 63 Killed by his own they found a patsy. There’s a dog in space and now a man, Beatles in the radio along with the hams. Pirates on the airways and six weeks of snow. Oh where oh where did my childhood go.
