Misty water-coloured memories

Well I did say I was gonna start at the beginning.

So, on Wednesday 4th September 1963 at approximately 10pm I burst forth into the world. You know that rhyme, 'Monday's child is full of grace' or it might be 'fair of face', I'm not sure as I am allegedly full of woe given that I was born on a Wednesday. What nonsense. It should be rewritten; 'Wednesday's child is full of fun'....but then that may have meant that Tuesday's child had a face like a currant bun and the rhyme may not have caught on. Oh I don't know or care, it's a stupid rhyme is my point as I am so not full of woe.

Anyway, I spent the first 5 years of my life in Liverpool. Mum and Dad lodged with my maternal Grandma and Grandad (there's a wonderful blog on the way at some point about this) Annie and Sonny (Stephen really but called Sonny by everyone). So what do I remember about being a Scouser (note the capital S!).

Home was a three-storey tenemant, long since demolished, we lived on the ground floor. My other Grandparents lived across the road, also on the ground floor of a three-storey tenemant. My paternal Grandparents were my favourites, I know I shouldn't have them but they were. They were called Mary and Joseph!! (Which prompted Nicola, my daughter, when she was about 3, to ask my Dad if he was Jesus, waahaaaa!). Grandama Mary used to give me raw (I kid you not) sausage sarnies as a treat, she used to chop my eggs in a cup and give me a threepenny bit if I ate it all up, she used to let me stay up late and sit her knee, she idolised me and me her. So much so that when she died - I was 9 - my young heart was torn apart. I am actually crying a little right now. I keep a beautiful photo of her and Grandad Joe on my bedside table, it's amongst my most treasured possessions. On a lighter note, she also used to give me pigs trotters to chew on - oh shut up! They'd been cooked!

School was across from Grandma Mary's, so everything was in a nice row; home, Mary and Joe's, school. Our Lady's, Eldon Street. I was only there for one term and the only things I can remember are playing in a wendy house which I loved, being a shopkeeper with tiddlywink money which I loved and practicing doing full-stops which I didn't love as mine, according to Miss, looked like footballs. I also remember having to stand in a line in my vest and knickers to be given a sugar cube with some revolting tasting stuff on it and have someone look in my ears. Someone in a white coat.

My Mum worked in a department store in the town centre. On Saturday's Grandma Annie and I used to go along there, we'd have something to eat and a cup of tea (I can't believe I used to drink tea from such an early age) then we'd go and see my Mum. But before that Dad used to take me to the paper shop (newsagent's) still in my nightie, wrapped in a blanket and sit me on the shopkeeper's counter whilst he got his paper. I used to get a Caramac and a bottle of orange juice. We'd head back home and snuggle back in the bed, me eating my treats, him reading the paper. He'd go to the football every Saturday, he's an Evertonian. He brought a football rattle home once and I was terrified of it. I was also terrified of putting my bare feet on grass and sand - says a lot about urban living!

You may have heard of 'Greaty Market' in Liverpool. It's actually Great Homer Street market. It was thriving then, still is I think, and it was just around the corner from where we lived. I'd be taken there quite a lot and I remember en route, there was an old lady who used to sit on a chair on her doorstep, she was dressed in a long, black dress, like Queen Victoria. She was always there, we always waved to her and she'd just smile, I don't think she could wave, she was so old. She frightened me a bit.

There was a row of shops near us. Long before supermarkets were invented. We had a newsagent-cum-sweetshop, a green-grocer, butcher, fish shop and launderette, all in a row. Quite cool when you think about it. And great for building a community.

When it was hot (we had seasons then so summer was hot and it snowed in winter - always) we'd go 'over the water' to New Brighton. One time we took my friend, Claire Sweeney. Yes THE Claire Sweeney. Her Grandma lived on the top floor of the tenemant above Grandma Mary and she'd come and spend time there during the summer. Trouble is with the Claire you see today, she may be a year younger than me which puts her at 43 yet if you read about her it always says 'Claire Sweeney, 36'. She's a fibber. Still, looks good for 43 doesn't she?

So, a fairly idyllic childhood so far. But it was all set to change. You see, Mum and Dad had been saving up all this time and were about to turn my world upside down. They were about to move into their first (and only) own home. It was far away from Liverpool (17 miles but that's far to a 5 year old), where they talked funny but thought I talked funny, I had no friends there, my 2 Grandma's weren't close by and worst of all - I had my own bedroom. No, please, I'm scared of the dark, I want to sleep in your room with you, it's far away from your room........my cries went unheard.

More soon, P