trevor coleman memoir

Wave your hanky

~ mungrisdalewriters ~ Leave a comment
Efraimstochter.jpg
Photo at Pixabay

Most infants owned a Pea Shooter. I remember calling at the small general store opposite our infant school to purchase a halfpenny worth of grey peas, ammunition required urgently for the first playtime break.

With no paper bags until a later delivery, I was happy to improvise and had the peas wrapped carefully into my clean handkerchief.

Our teacher, having noticed most boys using their coat sleeves on which to wipe their noses, had urged us to always carry a clean hanky and it was on this fateful day he requested we prove we had taken his advice.

In my exuberation, I snatched out my lovely clean hanky, without a thought for my recent purchase, to see dozens of my much needed “grey farters” explore the whole of the classroom floor.

Trevor Coleman

I remember

~ mungrisdalewriters ~ Leave a comment
newspapers-444448_1280
Photo at Pixabay

I remember pillow fighting with my brother, with whom I shared a bed, being told by an anxious mom, not to break the wall mounted gas light mantle.

I remember swapping some old clothes for baby chickens from the handcart of a rag and bone man.

I remember mom and dad letting us keep the chickens in the back room of our terraced house, picking them up and placing them inside the hearth fender boxes when they became inconvenient.

I remember refusing to wear some of my Granny’s shoes to senior school after she had died, they were a good fit, but my pride let down my struggling mother very badly.

I remember delivering newspapers on my bike in a very strong wind which blew and turned my paper bag inside out, and I remember watching all of the newspapers wave goodbye very merrily

Trevor Coleman