- - Yer ma always told you to stand and count the sacks, when the coalman was delivering to the coalshed - just incase you were shortchanged
- yer ma used a poss-tub and mangle, and used to hang her washin across the back-lane
- the family used to sit around the fire, as close as they could, to keep warm and your legs always got burned, while your back was freezin
- you had to jam your foot in the back of the netty-door, cos there wasn't a bolt on the door
- the newspaper pieces, on the nail, were always missing the vital end, to the piece of the story you were reading, cos somebody else had always used it
- your bed was always so cold, you had to pile coats ontop to keep warm
- the snow was so thick that dad had to dig a deep trench from the front door to the road
- the man came round to light the gaslight in the street
- there was always a piece of rope, sometimes with a car-tyre attached, hanging from a lamp-post in your street
............. and they were the days before the HSE or PC brigade could step-in and spoil the fun, ah memories