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Tin bath in front of the fire on a Sunday night, kids today don't know they're born :laugh8:
I agree, and remember things being pretty tough, though probably not as bad in pit villages or in steel making. My father was from Liverpool and was a POW for 4 years of the war so came back to nothing. I brought up my kids pretty straight, and always said you can have what you need, but probably not what you want! Naturally, they knuckled down and are now on 6 figure salaries and treat me now and again.
 
AS the oldest of 5 kids (born 1958),when my mum had to go to hospital in the late 60's I had to stay with my nan and grandad.
I can remember being put in a tin bath in the social room (no way was it a 'lounge ' or a 'front room') for my weekly bath (remember them!!!)
Looking back it was a real eye-opener......and this was just outside west london,who said all the hard times were up north.
Looking back, my grandparents were lovely people trying to do their best ,but they and their outside loo were from a generation before.
 
I remember outside toilets luckily i was born too late to have had to use one unless by choice (always handy for a quick pee when playing out) i remember stories of freezing winters and having to break the ice before using the toilet, newspaper strips as toilet paper, nice. :laugh8:



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Tin bath in front of the fire on a Sunday night, kids today don't know they're born :laugh8:
That brought back memories; and I still follow one of my Mum’s “Rules”, even though I no longer share a bath.

Rule 1. was “Have a pee immediately before and immediately after a bath!”

The reason why my Mum would make such a rule is obvious; especially when you consider that she was fourth in the queue!

At least now, I don’t have the twenty-five yards walk up and down the garden before and after I have a shower!
:hat:
 
You mention newspaper,do you remember when you went to school and you had to use something like grease-proof paper to wipe your a-se....what was it called....something like vivaldi???!!
 
I remember outside toilets luckily i was born too late to have had to use one unless by choice (always handy for a quick pee when playing out) i remember stories of freezing winters and having to break the ice before using the toilet, newspaper strips as toilet paper, nice. :laugh8:



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There was a line of those across the yard from my Nan's back door and if you were caught short in the night there was a 'guzunda' - so called because it guzunda your bed. I'd go and stay for two weeks in the summer, up to when I was ten and she moved into sheltered accommodation.
 
It was “Izal” and to get a decent “wipe” instead of a “polish” it needed to be crumpled up!
:hat:
In military circles the issued stuff was known as John Wayne as it was rough, tough and took sh1t off no one. We all had our own personal stock of 'comfy-bum'
 
NO TEACHER ever told me that...........now I understand my nickname.....'Skidmark'!
Amongst the nicknames given at school, two from my Dad’s era are:
  1. “P1sser Harris”who won a “How High?” competition at school and carried his nickname to the grave!
  2. Maybe this man should have been 1st, because his nickname was shortened and only his immediate family knew his surname! One day he was sat in class when the school teacher asked “What is the Capital of France?” The lad’s hand shot up, he immediately said “Tokyo!”; and a legend was born. Over the years the “Tokyo” was shortened to ”Toke”, but his surname remained a mystery!
Enjoy!
:hat:
 
In the early eighties when I was in 10 Para (territoritals) there was a sergent on the transport section,and honestly he could p1ss over the canopy of a 4 ton truck, would he have beaten 'P1sser Harris' I don't know ,but I'de have like to have seen it .
Thank chr1st, I'm so much more sensible now? (Am I?)
 
….. if you were caught short in the night there was a 'guzunda' - so called because it guzunda your bed. …….
It was probably too convenient at times!
:D

A newly married couple spent their first night in our house before heading off the next day for a honeymoon in Blackpool.

Apart from the Apple-Pie Bed and assorted tin-cans tied to the bed springs, my parents also tipped a tin of Andrews Liver Salts into the guzunda!

I leave the consequences of this final act to the people who remember Andrews Liver Salts!
:hat:
 
Ah, it’s true when they say “Nostalgia isn’t what it used to be!”

The guzunda also brought back the memory of “Roger and The Pole”.

In our village of terrace houses the obvious place to get up to no good on “Mischief Night” (4th November) was near a gennel (a gap in the terrace) where, if caught, you could escape.

Roger wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer; and The Pole was an irascible old man who didn’t understand “Mischief Night” at all. (Not surprising really. Being from Poland he probably hadn’t even heard of Guy Fawkes, never mind the night before.)

On “Mischief Night”, most people in the village either nailed their letterbox shut, maintained a vigil behind the door, or relied on our better nature not to attack them. i.e. they were related to us or they knew our parents!

One 4th November we persuaded Roger to nip across the road and throw a firework through The Pole’s letterbox! This was on the understanding that we would be hiding in the gennel opposite and leap to his defence if he got caught.

Roger accepted the challenge (I did explain he was not the full shilling) crept over to The Pole’s house and started to light the firework.

Simultaneously, the bedroom window immediately above The Pole’s front-door opened and a hand appeared holding a large guzunda; which was promptly emptied over Roger’s head!

WOW! The smell of Roger was enough to put us off, so we stopped messing with The Pole after that, even on “Mischief Night”!
:hat:
 
So lazy holidaymakers and litter are not a new thing ;)

1983 Summer holidays, New Brighton UK
© Martin Parr/Magnum Photos

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