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I was born in 1938. My parents often told stories of how they lived through the 1920s. Glanaman Road was virtually on the mountain, and yet almost in a coal yard for Fforchaman Colliery (Brown's pit). Its trucks of coal and stockpile of timber logs were on our doorstep.

We all bathed in turn in the same tin bath in front of the huge coal fire using water boiled on our living room coal fire grate.

The blackleaded grate was the essential part of living. It heated the water, cooked the food, toasted our bread, warmed our chilblained toes, dried the sticks for next day's fire and aired the clothes. There was a darker side to the comfort of our fireplace - at night the blackpats (beetles) invaded our 'territory'.

Coal deliveries were exciting. We always had a shovel and bucket in the hope that the horse would leave some manure for our garden! As soon as the coal was dumped outside our back lane door we rushed to help to carry it into the shed. Then we would scrub in the tin bath. I remember the muddy suds on mother's zinc scrubbing board as she washed our clothes.

I remember tea times when there was buttered toast on the menu. We made it on our open fire with a long wire toasting fork and buttered it while it was still hot. You could feel the heat on your face as the coal threw laser like beams past the toasting fork.

For amusement we played on the colliery yard in the huge sandpit. We were trespassing but our parents didn't mind much as we were in sight of them all the time. When the colliery bobby came there would be great commotion to retrieve our shoes and run. Many times shoes were left behind and their owners had to appear before the policeman to reclaim them and get a stern ticking off.

The timber yard supplied the colliery with pit props. These were ideal building material for dens and playhouses, but again dangerous. If one log rolled out of place then there would be an 'avalanche'. We often sneaked to the sawmill and asked for a bag of sawdust to line our rabbit's cwtch.

There was no double glazing so I remember the noise of the morning pit hooters warning the miners that it was nearly time for the cage to go down. It was also a sign for me to turn over and go back to sleep for two hours before getting ready for school.

Oddments from an account I wrote for a challenge I wrote for the Trefoil Guild - Next door neighbour was the pit.