Did you ever go scrumping as a child. Oh what fun with jumpers bulging we would climb the old oak tree and sit amongst it's comfy branches, eating our catch from the orchard.
We lived in a small avenue of just 40 houses so as children we grew up together and always did things in a group of happy friends.
When winter set in it was time to build camps in the hedgerows and go scrumping for swede. There was always something to eat in the fileds around us. I never have liked cooked swede but I still eat it raw shredded over salad or in a cheese sandwich.
Chestnutting was always a favourite, and still is, I think maybe because we always took mum pocketfulls home, she loved them, it always felt so good to give mum presents.
I remember one Mothers Day seeing hosts of daffodiles in the local monestry grounds, so we gingerly knocked on the back door of the big old mansion house, of which so many stories were told, but they are another snip-it. When one old monk answered I was pushed forward, "please could we pick some flowers for our mums", of course we were allowed and although we watched our backs the whole time we were there, the flowers were well worth it.
Those day are precious to me as must be your memories to you.
Bonfire nights were the highlight of the year, for weeks we would collect burning material and pile it in the centre of a green that was the middle of the avenue, on the night each household would bring their fireworks to their front gates a procession of torches were lite and on the "word" they would charge and light the bonfire, everyone would then light their fireworks it was a sight to be seen, there were never accidents. Later us older children in the embers of the bonfire would have jacket potatoes, we must have smelt horrid by the end of the night, but our tummies were full and we were happy.