Providing I gave my mother an idea of the location I was planning to visit, there were few restrictions, other than if I went too far it would be a long walk home. Friends in the village of my own age were fun to be with, but as most had families that took them out, I was often on my own. The local beach was about a mile away, so was within walking distance; there was little going on when the season was quiet, so I had most of the small pools and the beach area to myself.

At the far end of our lane, a wood was slowly being cleared in preparation for a small housing development. Mechanical diggers and bonfires were a magnet for a small boy. If I did not get in the way my presence was tolerated; if I was encouraged to help, it was to drag the smaller branches that had been cut over to the many small fires that were continually burning. The best treat was to be lifted into the bucket on a tipper truck and driven around and over the more bumpy areas of the site. It depended on the weather as to what state I returned home in. The clothes and myself were washable.

The wood had a large amount of unwanted tyres. These varied in size from the normal car up to tractor size. A few were used during the salvaging of the timber; the unwanted ones were ideal for encouraging the damp branches and waste wood to burn easily. This secret site was only revealed to a few of my friends.

One dangerous activity we took part in was to each select a tyre and roll it out of the wood and onto the lane. A steep hill then took away all the major effort of propelling the tyre in its downward direction, and if we were careful it took only the odd nudge to keep it out of the ditch and trees. The lane was little used and we never encountered any vehicles coming up. If there had been traffic, we would have been able to spot it and take full control of our own tyre. It was only when we were near the bottom of the hill and could see that there was no approaching traffic that we let our tyres out of our control. A small bridge with a stream running beneath was our target. If we had the tyres positioned correctly they would hit the edge of the bridge and then bounce into the air. The competition was to see if one’s tyre could then go over the wall and into the stream below. Often the tyre bounced back onto the road and needed to be physically thrown over the small bridge. Our tyre play ended when the houses were starting to be built and the tyres were all used up.

Most of my free time was taken up at the farm near to the house. I soon became interested in how the dairy side of the farm worked; it was a small family farm and within a short while became accepted as always there. They had a son who was in his late teens.

 My favourite activity was to be allowed to ride the pony at the farm; this had been the boy’s when he had been younger. Until I started to ride the pony, it had not really been ridden for some time but it soon accepted me. The farm also possessed two massive carthorses; these were mainly used for pulling carts at the farm for many years. The two horses were now almost in retirement, however they were useful when the tractor became bogged down in the mud and needed rescuing, and during harvest time when the big hay wagon needed to be moved.

 Steering the tractor along the lane was another treat. I was tall enough to be able to reach the pedals, but my lack of weight did not enable me to have full control over them. One other draw for me to the farm was to be allowed to play with the toys the boy still possessed. A clockwork train set would be set out on the concrete yard and could keep me amused for some time, and compared with the few toy cars I had at home, this was wonderful.

Watching chickens being killed and having their innards removed might have upset other children who did not live on farms, but I quite enjoyed watching such activity and helping. Collecting eggs from some more remote areas of the barn was something I was soon quite agile at. Helping mucking out the cowshed was another activity that I took pride in. Raking the straw from the drain gully might have been a little dirty, however, my mother had one set of clothes for me if I decided to visit the farm.

The move from infants to juniors at this school was quite easy. We moved into another room with a different teacher rather than actually changing schools. Some of my friends now found sitting at traditional desks in rows rather odd but it was a form of education I was already used to. Having a master teaching us was a way of encouraging us to behave.

The only major injury I managed to achieve was at the start of the afternoon break. I was the first onto the metal climbing frame. At one end, there were low bars that you could climb across, this then continued to a high single bar that took you to the end of the frame. Originally, the high bar was designed to have ropes or other equipment attached, rather than the difficult movement we had to complete to enable us to swing hand over hand along its length. My attempt to climb along the bar after a short shower meant part way along I lost my grip. The sensation of going headfirst was all I remembered until I awoke with what seemed the entire school gathered around me. I was carried into the school, and the various cuts and bruises were sorted out. All I could think of was that concrete was hard. If they had left me alone I would have been quite happy, but the headmistress thought it necessary to telephone my mother about the accident. I was let out of school early and as soon as we arrived home I was put to bed.

If the adults thought I was a little odd, it was that I did not use the words ‘Mum’ or ‘Mother’ either to talk to or about my mum, but addressed her as any adult might. This was down to not being told that I could go back to the words that any ordinary child might use.

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Continued

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