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As a small child in the 1940’s, I remember a small terraced house where we lived. My mum, three brothers and myself.

There were two steps up to the front door and to open it you just turned your back on it and pushed it with your bottom, one quick jerk and it was open. We didn’t need locks, keys or bolts in those days

As you entered the hall there was a door that opened into the front room’very'' posh’. This was only used on special days where my mum would play the piano and everyone in the family and close friends would sing songs from the war and the music halls. Songs included ‘We’ll Meet Again, White Cliffs of Dover, Lambeth Walk and Knees up Mother Brown. There was laughter and tears, but it made everyone feel good even if it was short lived.

Out into the hall, going into the next door which opened into the living room where everything happened. My mum did the ironing on the end of the table, it was called a flat iron and to heat it up, it was placed on the gas ring, once it was hot you had to hold the handle with a cloth and then wet your fingers and tap the bottom very quickly for it to sizzle, then with great care place the iron gently on the cloth to make sure it didn’t burn the item.
We sat and read books; the first name that comes to mind is Rupert the bear but I’m sure there were lots more. We played cards, a game of snap always created noise, had our arguments over who had who’s socks on and laughed over silly things that young ones do.
We always sat at the table to eat our meals and chatted about anything that needed to be said. Mum had a sewing machine that worked by pushing a treadle up and down with your feet so it left the hands free to guide the cloth through the needle that went up and down and made the stitches, she made me little dresses and mended the boys trousers. It was the hive of the home, something was always going on.

In the winter, we had an open fire where the kettle was placed onto the coals to boil for a ‘nice cup of tea’. Hot buttered toast, jacket potatoes and roasted chestnuts- the smell was oh so lovely and delicious and you felt a real lovely secure feeling. We never had to go out into the cold to get the coal, it was in the cupboard under the stairs ‘in the coal hole’.

From there we go into the scullery (kitchen) where we find the gas cooker, gas boiler and (cold water only) sink, a food safe (not a fridge) which was a cabinet on high legs, covered with a very fine metal mesh that kept the flies and insects out! We had a food safe in the garden, just by the back door as well. I think this was used for the fresh meat, we didn’t have a lot but we did have some .Milk and butter stood in the cold water in the summer to help keep it fresh and stop the butter from melting.

We had a long garden (well, I thought it was). We kept chickens and ducks, grew veg, flowers and fruit bushes. My mum done it all, she worked so hard to keep us going with food and clothes. I also remember a rain drain being covered over now and again so as to fill the dip with water for the ducks to have a swim.

An outside loo that had lovely soft …..Newspaper squares!!!! Hung up with a piece of string on a nail in the wall. I used to sit there for ages just to watch the spiders make their webs — never worried me.

Going back into the house and through to the living room where the stairs led up to the two bedrooms. One small bedroom had a double bed and a chest of drawers; the other bedroom had a double bed where my brothers slept and a single bed which was mine.

The winter months was very cold in the bedrooms, as we did not dare to light a fire in the fireplace because of the small rooms, the beds would be to near. Ice would be thick on the inside of the windows in the morning so once all the blankets had been used up your top coats were thrown over for extra warmth.

In the years that followed, a lot went on in that little terraced house, lots of heartache, but also lots of laughter too. Perhaps we came out of it better people, I would like to think so…. But that’s another story.

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