Talk Morgan Forums Community The Malvern Arms When I was a kid

I dont really know what kids get up to these days but with the ever present fear of paedos stoked up by the media, I am not sure they get out and about anything like as much as we did. But then we had no TV, so "playing out" was the only enjoyment we could get. Usually playing cowboys and Indians with plastic Colt 45s ( disapproved of now) and catapults and wooden swords.Throwing 2d bangers as my ( I'll tell my mummy over you!) girl cousins. Mischief night with bangers at the neighbours doors. Using my air rifle to shoot out the gas mantles in a nearby street light until the local sergeant visited.. Catching newts in bomb site craters down by the gasworks.

And misusing school chemistry lessons first to make gunpowder at the cost of both eyebrows. You could buy chemicals freely in those days. Then sodium chlorate and aluminium powder. Then finally a thankfully unsuccessful attempt at nitroglycerene by titrating glycerine though a mix of conc nitric and sulphuric acid.. Hit a little drop with a hammer and nothing. Hit a much bigger drop same result. Took what was left and put it in a flask over a bunsen burner and thankfully nothing happened. Unlike when I made a cannon out of gas pipe with the end blocked ( I thought) by a big bolt. Held in the garage vise, when the slow burning niotrate coated string touched the blow hole, the paper tamping proved too tight The cannon contained a whole looad of rivets tamped down by newspaper and a broomstick.) so the bolt shot out backwards with an enormous bang and through the garage wall. Dad was not amused.

We had a school camp at Drebly in the yorks dales. Went there easter and summer. Got drunk on beer from the off licence window at the Craven arms and crashed my bike on a big tree. We would go out raiding in the middle of the night, visiting the guides camp, letting down tents and pnching biscuits. Didnt have any more evil intents in those days thoug I do remember us gathering in a crown to watch Gavin Craigs older sister ( must have been all of 16) in a bikini on a rock in the river at the camp. Proper siren - and she knew it. But she was safe from us. . And so were we - we knew somehow who the pervs were and avoided them. It was an age of innocence

I remember cycling from home in Bradford to Hornsea ( 70 miles each way from memory) to visit a pals uncle who had a cottage on the cliff top there. Then cycling round England from Lands end to newcastle with a pal two summers on the trot. Staying with the YHA - would you let a kid do that now?

Being sent out into the woods to pick mushrooms (ceps) and blackberries for my mother to make bramble jelly with.

Having a 12" black and white TV with two Chanel's and not being allowed to watch "the other side" because it had adverts.

Cycling miles to hang out in neighboring towns sans parents.

Rose hip syrup and orange juice on the national health in glass bottles with cork stoppers.

Swimming in barely heated outdoor pools.

Laughing gas and endless fillings at the dentist.

Driving into London and parking on the street.

Looking through the change in my pocket for early Victorian bun pennies.

Tormenting squirrels with the air rifle my grandfather bought used to teach his home guard unit marksmanship!

Sailing my toy yacht.

Playing "Bulldog" (AKA British bulldog?)

Making go-carts out of scaffold planks and pram wheels. Spent hours riding around on them going down ridiculously steep hills with roads at the bottom.

Cycling miles and miles.

Being in the Cubs then the Scouts learning how to look after yourself. Going camping and cooking everything on an open fire.

Making your own way everywhere you went as parents weren't so keen on driving you around everywhere.

Loads more but I've got to go and do some chores!

In winter sledging down the hills - had to be careful as barbed wire fence at the bottom/
With the old back to back houses with outside toilets with a "sneck" latch we would wait until dark, put a drawing pin on the latch and then find dog poo and cover the drawing pin with it. Out would come the old fellers after the pub, go out for a final relief before bed, stick their thumb on the pin and then instinctively suck it. Two cries of "OW! and Urgh" in quick succession . Happy days!

Phil that’s disgusting..... at least we put the dog poo in a paper bag, put it on the door step, set fire to it and knocked the door before running off, the language when they came out and stamped on the burning bag was awful 😂

BR
Colin (who still doesn’t know what your supposed to do with a jam jar full of sticklebacks)

I used to put two-penny (ie 2d) rockets into Airfix model jets. People said Airfix kits didn’t fly but mine did - including straight through the corner shop big display window!

You keep the sticklebacks in an aquarium as my big brother did. Unfortunately after a couple of years it died on March 29th 1952. It was called Philip. The day after on 30th I was born! I suppose I should have been a good swimmer. Not many people are named after a stickleback.

Two brilliant posts from Mr Royle, Chuckling about your name and the poo joke.

I dont know how I made it through childhood, I was a bit of a rascal.
Cant say anymore than that

But you’ve made up for it now you are an old codger with a caravan