Category Archives: Unreliable memories

When you’re going to live forever

Of course, we knew about death. It was the 1960s, the Second World War was only a generation previously. In our own small community, there were people whose sons and husbands and brothers had not come home. War deaths were … Continue reading

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White goods

Moving to a council house when I was six years old was a step up in the world. We still had an outside toilet, but we did have a bathroom, with an enamel bath and a wall-mounted washbasin, instead of … Continue reading

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Papa

There’s a black and white photograph of my grandfather. He is standing on open ground. Perhaps it was taken on a trip to the seaside, or on a visit to somewhere in the countryside. He is wearing an old sports … Continue reading

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There’s a grey van coming down the road

Perhaps it arose from a feeling of consolation that Monday had been safely negotiated. Nothing too bad had happened at school. The spellings to learn for Friday were not too complicated (learning the spelling of sixteen words was the only … Continue reading

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Bedtime drinks

With the passage of time, life becomes ever more prosaic. A bedtime drink now is a mug of hot milk, anything with caffeine would mean getting up in the night. I can never understand how my grandparents could drink Camp … Continue reading

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