The title paraphrases this months TIF challenge. It's been fascinating reading other people's memories as both a means of prompting my own grey cells into action but also to compare them with my own. In general the memories have focused on objects and daily events that are no longer around - doorstep milk delivery features a lot. (Our milk delivery has been streamlined a lot, but still happens I'm pleased to say.)
A first I was concerned about how little I remembered but gradually, by association, more things have come to the forefront but as I said in an earler post they are more about places than objects. There now follows a short ramble into my past - you may want to hit your 'next' button now!
What am I old enough to remember?
The Frederick's ice cream van that parked in front of the house with the posh curtains and being allowed the occasional ice cream from this van, but not the other brighter, louder van that parked at the dark end of the road. The dark end? Our house was about one third of the way down the road, in one of several blocks of nine maybe ten terraced houses and I wasn't allowed to go past the end of the block in which we lived. I don't even remember being curious about this!
The garden of the house next door that had lawn either side of the path from back door to end wall - it seemed to go on forever.
The chain link fence on the other side of the alley at the back of the house. We used to grab onto it after spinning ourselves round to see how sick we could make ourselves feel. Again - no curiosity about what lay beyond the trees on the other side of the fence. It was industrial (I think) and didn't impinge on my life.
The tall (ten stories?) block of flats that we passed on the walk to school - I always felt that it loomed over me, the stuff of nightmares.
The incongruity of a tanker parking at the top end of our domestic road.
The change in surface between the infant and junior playgrounds. The two schools were housed in separate buildings which faced one another across the playground. The infants playground was flagged, the juniors was tarmaced.
The red wall that we passed walking from my grandmother's house to the bustop. On reflection this was probably made from sandstone common in that area but not something that i ecognised at the time.
The amazing length of the shop in the city that we went to to buy dressmaking fabric. The shop was incredibly narrow with barely passing room on either side of the counter for customers on their side or staff on theirs. (I went back before the area was redeveloped and my memory held true!)
And so it goes on, but now to move on to the map ....................