This piece is the actual end of the ebook I've been preparing. Funny business this writing milarky. An ego trip in a way. Some way to go re the technical side but nearly there I reckon. Don't they say there's a story in everyone waiting to get out. Hope these memories amuse.
'I remember the days when ‘No spitting’ signs were commonplace, particularly on public transport. So much so that a ‘clever dick’ in a local newspaper was moved to pontificate ‘Gentlemen who expectorate should not expect to rate as gentlemen’.
Memories of trains with a unique smell that blew out real soot; times when you wore socks not gloves on your hands to keep out the cold; coats on the bed for added warmth in winter and going to bed in daylight in summer. Omo and Ajax washing powder, Robin starch, Izal toilet paper for the posh and squares of newspaper on a nail for the not so well off. Beecham Powders, Venos Cough Mixture and Iodine, dolly tubs, tin baths and steam, always plenty of steam. Visits from the ‘Pru’ and the ‘tallyman’, both eager to collect money hard earned but easily spent.
The days when you had a choice of mild or bitter in the pub; dark mild to be avoided as the slops of other beers tended to be surreptitiously returned to the mild barrel by some unscrupulous landlords. And a time when some customers used the beer off, a side door to the pub. From where they fetched beer, one, two or four pints, usually in enamel jugs; taken home and drank in the privacy of their own homes.