including 
                          Woolwich & Districts
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                Contented Memories of a Young Boy
                  
                  growing up in the late 1940s and early 1950s. 
                 
                Of... 
                    
                  Saving my pocket money for buying presents, instead 
                  of the usual weekly indulging myself buying sweets from the 
                  corner shop, and actually feeling very excited about what I 
                  was going to buy with my sparse stash of saved up pocket money. 
                  Of... 
                  At school the class excitedly making simple paper chains. Cutting 
                  sheets of different coloured paper into strips and then gluing 
                  them into circles and interlocking them into chains, mixing 
                  the different colours as the paper chain grew longer and longer. 
                  The sheer pleasure of seeing these paper chains hung up and 
                  transforming the drab classrooms into a multi coloured magical 
                  fairy grotto, and all this achieved by our own handiwork too. 
                  Of... 
                  Mum, busy as ever, shopping, struggling, happily, up that hill 
                  each day with bulging shopping bags, and me, a little wee fella, 
                  giving mum a hand by holding on to a shopping bag handle and 
                  sharing its heavy weight. Bringing home the extra large chicken 
                  and the huge turkey, the large pre ordered cooked ham, along 
                  with the oranges, tangerines, Brussels sprouts and other veggies 
                  for the Christmas feast. All paid for by mum's Co-Op Christmas 
                  savings and her Divi payments! The fresh peas, to be shelled 
                  by us kids sitting out in the back garden, ever bundled in scarves 
                  and jackets to stay warm, happily popping the pods and spilling 
                  the peas into a large saucepan that we sat around; at least 
                  those peas that survived from popping into our mouths first. 
                   
                  Of... 
                  Wonderful smells wafting enticingly from the oven-warmed scullery 
                  at all hours of the day and night, along with busy, busy sounds 
                  of mixing, stirring and whipping of ingredients in large china 
                  mixing bowls. Sultanas, currants, glazed cherries, spices, and 
                  sticky coloured fruit peels, “.....can I have some, mum?” 
                  Fruity smells of jellies melting in moulds of hot water, flour 
                  covered table tops, cake tins lined with margarine wrapping 
                  paper, half full of soft cake mix ready for the hot oven. Wooden 
                  mixing spoons covered in delicious sweet tasting sticky cake 
                  mix,....“Yes, you can lick the spoon”.......sheer 
                  luxury! 
                  Bottles of cream from the milkman, and watching him quickly 
                  sip his hot cuppa, as he chats to mum on the front porch, telling 
                  tales of how very busy he is, with the load of so many extra 
                  Christmas orders.  
                  Of... 
                  Plumstead High Street and Lakedale Road shop windows all lit 
                  up and overflowing with glitter and tinsel, sparkling Christmas 
                  gifts, and special yule-tide goodies. 
                  The Department stores in Woolwich bulging with the wonderful 
                  sights, sounds, and smells, of Christmas. Clear glass jars of 
                  different coloured bath salts, and exotic bubble baths, also 
                  available in neatly wrapped cubes or fancy shaped bottles. Pastel 
                  coloured soaps, scents and perfumes from afar, in strange geometric 
                  shaped bottles, everything tied in fancy ribbon bows and a myriad 
                  of other colourful smelly things. Brightly coloured toys, to 
                  look and wonder at, but alas never to be owned, except in a 
                  dream. Christmas carols filling the air, as large fancy brass 
                  tills are rung. The compressed air filled tubes shoot encapsulated 
                  receipts and money back and forth overhead, as gifts and goods 
                  are purchased. 
                  Of... 
                  The wintry Trek across Winn's Common, to the silence of Bowman's 
                  Hollow, to hunt for some prickly holly branches, with the best 
                  display of red berries. 
                  Further expeditions to the small valleys in Bostall Woods to 
                  find the best and largest prickly cases to be stomped on and 
                  gather the shiny brown sweet chestnuts inside and to find the 
                  largest pine cones. Once home, they'd be rolled around in poster 
                  paint, and then sprinkled with glitter. To be hung up and around 
                  the mantlepiece, or on the tree ??? “Who made all this 
                  mess!” 
                  Of... 
                   Wrapping 
                  up warm and going out into the dark night air with your mates, 
                  to trudge around the hilly streets Carol Singing. Minding to 
                  never kick the empty milk bottles, as we boldly gathered in 
                  a stranger's porch, and then, nervously knocking on his door. 
                  On hearing a sudden movement from inside the home, we'd start 
                  to sing “While shepherds watched their flocks by night” 
                  all the while resisting a very real urge to sing, “When 
                  shepherds washed their socks by night all seated round the tub, 
                  a bar of Sunlight soap came down and we began to scrub!” 
                  Then, when the door opened, and our small smiling faces were 
                  greeted by those of older years, we'd change to the most angelic 
                  version of “Silent Night” that was ever heard. Then, 
                  later, counting up the many coppers, thru'penny pieces, sixpences, 
                  or with luck a shilling or two, and dividing it up equally, 
                  all to be added towards our other monies saved for presents. 
                  Of... 
                  Going shopping to choose and buy Christmas presents, and the 
                  long and careful consideration of price and value of the item. 
                  A packet of hair grips for Sally next door, a flannel and a 
                  bar of fancy smelling coloured soap for my sister, a comb for 
                  my brother, handkerchiefs for dad, a box of lavender bath cubes 
                  and a comb for mum........... Buying Christmas gift wrap paper 
                  and coloured labels and wrapping up the presents when no one 
                  was allowed to look and see what was being wrapped up, or else! 
                  Of... 
                  On Christmas Eve this innocent young boy writing his secret 
                  message in large infant scrawled letters, on a piece of paper. 
                  My most desired requests would then be carefully placed up the 
                  chimney of my bedroom's green tiled fireplace, carefully lodging 
                  the note in the cast iron damper that was situated in the chimney 
                  flue. This surely could never be missed by Santa Claus on his 
                  way down the chimney that very night. Of lying in bed, near 
                  my younger sister, quietly talking and sharing, as our young 
                  eagerness and excitement grew at the expectation of receiving 
                  our wondrous presents on Christmas morning, at long last so 
                  very near, as our eyelids grew ever heavier, after such a long 
                  long day. 
                  Of... 
                  Christmas Day and Christmas dinner, rich Christmas pudding and 
                  cream, warm mince pies, fancy wrapped toffees from a big round 
                  tin, seen only on this special day of the year. 
                  The annual family gathering in our front room, only used on 
                  these special occasions and the treat of a Christmas variety 
                  show, from the accumulator battery-fed valve wireless.  
                  A bright flickering coal fire and the smell of chestnuts being 
                  roasted in the ashes, under the fire grill. Everyone jumping 
                  and then laughing as another chestnut explodes with a loud BANG! 
                   
                  Breaking open the rock hard brazil nuts and walnuts with the 
                  nutcrackers, and mixing them with the hazel nuts, peanuts, sultanas, 
                  wedges of tangerines, and Smiths crisps, after you'd untwisted 
                  the blue wax paper containing the salt and shook it well into 
                  the crisps. Cold meats for tea, with jelly and cream, Mackintoshes' 
                  lemonade or orangeade to follow, more warm mince tarts, and 
                  a really full belly..........“More jelly and cream?”.........“Oh 
                  yes-please mum!” 
                  Of... 
                  Playing outside in your road after Christmas tea and sharing 
                  with your neighbourhood mates about what you'd received for 
                  Christmas, what they received, and just how many goodies you'd 
                  been eating. Then later, with our fading eyes, and tired bodies, 
                  playing with your new toys before bedtime, after being allowed 
                  to stay up so unbelievably late. But after all, it was Christmas! 
                  Simple happy days for a child born a 'Common kid'. 
                   
                Colin 
                  Weightman 
                  
                 
                 
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