Childhood memories

MillieW

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I can`t remember all but i do know that the "chalk" we used to create a hopscotch plan wasn`t blackboard chalk.It was more like a pummice stone which might be mistaken for dog poo ?.

My brother was in construction and so we had sheets of plasterboard, often broken.

I had unlimited supplies and it made the best chalk. Carboard backed, you didn't get dirty hands - it was much sought after by the hopscotch gang.
 

MillieW

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How apt for premium notepaper! I hope it's been minuted too. I used to take minutes of meetings but i was always puzzled why they took me hours!

Feathers allow one to sail in the wind. The wind passes over then, rather than through them. I guess that avoids drag. Maybe you should have invested in a better quality quill. Yours are looking a little ruffled.
 

hell2bwith76

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Hopefully i`m on the correct thread still ...i remember well the Conker collecting season. We had one large tree at bottom of the street and the kids spent ages trying to knock them down with sticks, by throwing the stick up into the tree !.My main memory is of once when i threw a stick up it came back and whacked me on the Nose :(. Those days you just shook your head and carried on ( similar to how Cats behave when they slip or miss a step !). Only in the recent 6 years have i found out that my Nose was probably broken then ,as a recent Nasal test showed up a bend in one Nostril ,to indicate why i suffer with blocked Nose a lot.
 

MillieW

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Hopefully i`m on the correct thread still ...i remember well the Conker collecting season. We had one large tree at bottom of the street and the kids spent ages trying to knock them down with sticks, by throwing the stick up into the tree !.My main memory is of once when i threw a stick up it came back and whacked me on the Nose :(. Those days you just shook your head and carried on ( similar to how Cats behave when they slip or miss a step !). Only in the recent 6 years have i found out that my Nose was probably broken then ,as a recent Nasal test showed up a bend in one Nostril ,to indicate why i suffer with blocked Nose a lot.

Your deviated septum, lol. Mine was caused by a witches hat roundabout, remember those? The bar snapped and smacked me in the nose. I was very lucky not to die. I winced, too "brave" to cry in front of friends. It hurt that much, i think it was instantly numbed
 
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jenarator202

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I think it`s caused by too much Calcium in the dogs diet. Kids around here do chalk on pavement .,it`s nice to see them .
There is a lady who drew a chalk assault course of the pavement for the kids to play on, near, it involved jumping from line to line, jumping in circles (tyres in real), and other various things that involve movement of some kind ending in hopscotch, it provided hours of endless fun, until of course it rained and got washed away. Personally I thought it was a wonderful idea and it was nice to see the kids enjoying themselves with the hidden bonus of exercise. :) I seem to remember, one of these chalk assault course making the local news so maybe she got the idea from that.
 

hell2bwith76

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Your deviated septum, lol. Mine was caused by a witches hat roundabout, remember those? The bar snapped and smacked me in the nose. I was very lucky not to die. I winced, too "brave" to cry in front of friends. It hurt that much, i think it was instantly numbed

View attachment 2844
I do remember those ! They were running up to a few years ago if i am right ?. The danger from them was to little kids who ran by oblivious of how the Hat was swinging !.
 

hell2bwith76

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Yet another fun thing for me as a child was when i was around 8 years old . One of my brothers had this Parachute. It was a real full size one (he probably nicked it from the local Air Corps!). It seemed to lay about in the house doing nothing but in winter ,when there were very windy days , i remember taking it out into the street ( no cars then ) and running up and down dragging it ,trying to get it to take me off lol .It never did :(.
 

hell2bwith76

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Does anyone remember jokes on ice cream sticks??

After reading the joke I'd chew the stick. I used to chew pencils too.
I remember being a member of the Archy Andrews lollipop club :D. In fact i still have my badge and membership card :D
 

MillieW

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I remember being a member of the Archy Andrews lollipop club :D. In fact i still have my badge and membership card :D
Never heard of it, but of course you do.
 

BasildonBond

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Feathers allow one to sail in the wind. The wind passes over then, rather than through them. I guess that avoids drag. Maybe you should have invested in a better quality quill. Yours are looking a little ruffled.
I always did go for quantity rather than quality. I never learned. Always preferred sailing close to the wind than through it too. Good job I changed tack and stopped using quill pens ages ago. (enough of the sailing analogies I hear you mutter). Quills always scratched my fragile skin dreadfully and played havoc with my complexion. As for looking a little ruffled, my plumage remains ship-shape and Bristol fashion. Like my cocktails, BasBo may get shaken occasionally but is never stirred. Must be my age :(
 

hell2bwith76

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There was a large clay pit where i lived .Our garden backed onto it. It had been bought by a Market man way before my time and turned into a scrap metal storage place. Between WW1 and WW2 owner had bought loads of old vehicles and kept them in what we called "The Pit". There were discarded trams from the big cities( replaced by regular buses or taxis) ,old lorries and many old ex WD tanks ! from WW1 .We had much fun playing in the pit. It was a deep hole from the Brick making times and we could get one kid to go down and try to hide from us as we stood on the top edge and ,if we saw him ,threw large chunks of clay or even stones at him :D. Much of the fun was to smash the bus windows as he ran from one hiding place to the next :D. Good times ! ahhhh.

Oh ,btw ,owner made a mint when WW2 started as the Wartime ministers bought all the scrap metal back for the war effort :). A millionaire and he couldn`t read or write !.
 

IglooLass

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I went to a girls convent school and remember the boys from the boys grammar school across the road, used to catch Daddy Long Legs and creep up behind us girls at the bus stop then let them go up under our skirts. Cue frantic dancing, shrieks and knicker flashes.
 

hell2bwith76

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I went to a girls convent school and remember the boys from the boys grammar school across the road, used to catch Daddy Long Legs and creep up behind us girls at the bus stop then let them go up under our skirts. Cue frantic dancing, shrieks and knicker flashes.
Ahhhh ,the days of innocence . Before i knew what was up those skirts and the profound affect it would have on me for the rest of my life :)
 

Brass

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I was in junior high when the math teacher became so frustrated with the class's progress that he told us that anyone who didn't get a C or better on the upcoming test would get the paddle. I got a C- . . .
_______________________________________________________________________________________

The paddle was bigger than Brass had imagined. Descriptions from past recipients were not as exaggerated as he had always suspected they were. There really were holes drilled through it so that there would be very little cushion of air between the paddle and the victim's butt. And there really was athletic tape spiraling the length of the handle like on baseball bats.

Being led down the hallway toward the principal's office by Mr. Beebo, and then watching him go in and then come out with the paddle was, by itself, enough psychological pain to teach Brass and Verne whatever lesson it was that we were being taught. But no! Beebo asked who wanted to go first. Brass stepped up, at which point Beebo instructed him to reach down and grab his ankles. That's when the hitting started.

The first thing Brass realized was that Beebo had completely missed his butt and had connected fully with his stretched-to-the-limit hamstrings. Brass later told others how much that hurt, but so much was lost in translation. Brass howled, stood up, and turned around. "Mr. Beebo, you hit my legs."

Beebo nodded slightly and said, "Grab your ankles."

Brass grabbed his ankles. The second whack landed squarely on his hamstrings as well. At that point Brass realized that striking the backs of his legs was a premeditated affair, and that it would do no good to point out to Beebo the inaccuracy of his aim. The third whack was harder than the first two and it sent Brass stumbling forward; he weighed eighty-five pounds at the time. Beebo motioned with his hand for Brass to get back on the spot and grab his ankles. Brass complied.

This time Beebo placed his free hand on Brass's back to hold him in place. After the next whack, survival instinct kicked in and Brass broke free and backed up against the wall to protect the backs of his legs. Beebo told him that if he didn't assume the position, he would go get the principal to hold him in place. So he assumed the position and took his last whack. Despite his best effort to not cry, Bass cried.

Poor Verne! When Beebo turned to him, he started begging and pleading, saying that he would do anything to get out of being paddled. Brass guessed that what Verne meant was that he would take a thousand detentions or something. But Beebo's silence and beckoning finger spoke louder than words--this was non-negotiable! Without going into the details of Verne's coping skills, or lack thereof, suffice it to say that the incident was not pretty. Of course, breaking children never is. Brass could attest to that.

In the end, Verne received only three whacks because after the third one, he assumed the fetal position on the floor and Belson couldn't get at his legs or butt. Brass was waiting for Beebo to go get the principal to hold Verne in place for his last two whacks. He was curious to see how such a thing is done, and was almost glad to be there to see it all play out. He felt that he had earned the right. Instead, Beebo told the two to go back to the classroom while he returned the paddle to the principal's office. Apparently, he would not have went to get the principal to hold Brass in place. Yeah, he felt cheated.

On the way down the hallway, Verne, who had a reputation as a tough guy, said, "He was hitting me a lot harder than he was hitting you." Brass didn't think so, but kept that to himself. Verne then told Brass that if he told anyone about his crying and begging and the breaking of his spirit, he would kick his ass. Brass said, "As long as it ain't my legs." That drew a little smile from Verne. Brass wondered what lesson Verne learned from this, or what it corrected in him. All he knew for sure about what it did for him was that it convinced him that he was not safe. He hated that feeling.
 

hell2bwith76

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I was in junior high when the math teacher became so frustrated with the class's progress that he told us that anyone who didn't get a C or better on the upcoming test would get the paddle. I got a C- . . .
_______________________________________________________________________________________

The paddle was bigger than Brass had imagined. Descriptions from past recipients were not as exaggerated as he had always suspected they were. There really were holes drilled through it so that there would be very little cushion of air between the paddle and the victim's butt. And there really was athletic tape spiraling the length of the handle like on baseball bats.

Being led down the hallway toward the principal's office by Mr. Beebo, and then watching him go in and then come out with the paddle was, by itself, enough psychological pain to teach Brass and Verne whatever lesson it was that we were being taught. But no! Beebo asked who wanted to go first. Brass stepped up, at which point Beebo instructed him to reach down and grab his ankles. That's when the hitting started.

The first thing Brass realized was that Beebo had completely missed his butt and had connected fully with his stretched-to-the-limit hamstrings. Brass later told others how much that hurt, but so much was lost in translation. Brass howled, stood up, and turned around. "Mr. Beebo, you hit my legs."

Beebo nodded slightly and said, "Grab your ankles."

Brass grabbed his ankles. The second whack landed squarely on his hamstrings as well. At that point Brass realized that striking the backs of his legs was a premeditated affair, and that it would do no good to point out to Beebo the inaccuracy of his aim. The third whack was harder than the first two and it sent Brass stumbling forward; he weighed eighty-five pounds at the time. Beebo motioned with his hand for Brass to get back on the spot and grab his ankles. Brass complied.

This time Beebo placed his free hand on Brass's back to hold him in place. After the next whack, survival instinct kicked in and Brass broke free and backed up against the wall to protect the backs of his legs. Beebo told him that if he didn't assume the position, he would go get the principal to hold him in place. So he assumed the position and took his last whack. Despite his best effort to not cry, Bass cried.

Poor Verne! When Beebo turned to him, he started begging and pleading, saying that he would do anything to get out of being paddled. Brass guessed that what Verne meant was that he would take a thousand detentions or something. But Beebo's silence and beckoning finger spoke louder than words--this was non-negotiable! Without going into the details of Verne's coping skills, or lack thereof, suffice it to say that the incident was not pretty. Of course, breaking children never is. Brass could attest to that.

In the end, Verne received only three whacks because after the third one, he assumed the fetal position on the floor and Belson couldn't get at his legs or butt. Brass was waiting for Beebo to go get the principal to hold Verne in place for his last two whacks. He was curious to see how such a thing is done, and was almost glad to be there to see it all play out. He felt that he had earned the right. Instead, Beebo told the two to go back to the classroom while he returned the paddle to the principal's office. Apparently, he would not have went to get the principal to hold Brass in place. Yeah, he felt cheated.

On the way down the hallway, Verne, who had a reputation as a tough guy, said, "He was hitting me a lot harder than he was hitting you." Brass didn't think so, but kept that to himself. Verne then told Brass that if he told anyone about his crying and begging and the breaking of his spirit, he would kick his ass. Brass said, "As long as it ain't my legs." That drew a little smile from Verne. Brass wondered what lesson Verne learned from this, or what it corrected in him. All he knew for sure about what it did for him was that it convinced him that he was not safe. He hated that feeling.
Every school has a teacher like this ! They should never get past the Education Auithorities but are great actors !
 
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