A story of one man's utter failure, depression, frustration, and poverty, starting in August 1947 Chapter Twenty-seven: My first Angling Match I had joined the local pub's angling club (The Gladstone), and was on my first match. It was on the Yorkshire Derwent. I'd only started fishing a month earlier, and was full of trepidation, but excited about it. The lads seemed a decent bunch. B...
A story of one man's utter failure, depression, frustration, and poverty, starting in August 1947 Chapter Twent-six: Into the offenders relocation digs The next day, I went off to work at Tesco, and after while I got call from dear mummy. She had got me somewhere to live. (Which I thought I'd already got before she stopped paying the rent, emptied the gas and electricity meters, flogged off...
A story of one man's utter failure, depression, frustration, and poverty, starting in August 1947 Chapter Twenty-four: Mummy Returns - Work Commences Just as I was about to leave school at 14 years of age, Mummy re-appeared on the scene after about 3 years. And Dad once more relented and took her back in, a move he much regretted later. (So did I) Dad got me job as goffer and van lad at...
A story of one man's utter failure, depression, frustration, and poverty, starting in August 1947 Chapter Twenty-two: SPORTS: Ahead on points... Another chance for me to prove my sporting prowess came in the boxing competition. I'm not sure how they graded the competitors, but I (all 4ft 2in and 4 stone soaking wet of me) was matched against a 5' 8' 10 stone dude! The school Gym master in h...
A story of one man's utter failure, depression, frustration, and poverty, starting in August 1947 Chapter Twenty: Mummy Returns Again Mummy returned: full of the usual false compassion and commitment. The real surprise was she bought me a little red haired puppy dog! Because of its colouring, I called it 'Rusty', my first and last dog. It lived in a Heinz bean box behind the chair in the...
A story of one man's utter failure, depression, frustration, and poverty, starting in August 1947 Chapter Seventeen: Mummy Flees Again - the Bailiffs Call Yes you've guessed it, dear mummy did yet another bunk. However, the events this time, were more interesting: the night after she left, dad and I were sat by the fire, when the door was knocked upon, Dad (a rarity when I was available) an...
A story of one man's utter failure, depression, frustration, and poverty, starting in August 1947 Chapter Fifteen: Mater Goes Again Mater did another bunk, and dad got us a new tin bath (well second hand as our old one was just beyond any more repair) which I thought was marvellous, but guess who had to keep boiling pans of water on the stove, topping the bath up, and then using the cold dirty...
A story of one man's utter failure, depression, frustration, and poverty, starting in August 1947 Chapter Thirteen: Just one of Dad's famous 'Nice Walks' Dad thought it was a treat to take me on a marathon walk occasionally. We'd take no food, just a bottle of tap water. We'd walk for miles and miles, always eventually stopping near an orchard in, Bingham, Plumtree, Ruddington, or Bunny, th...
A story of one man's utter failure, depression, frustration, and poverty, starting in August 1947 Chapter Eleven: A Penny for the Pain Dad, being Dad, he spent nothing if it could be avoided; he even used to pull my teeth with his cobbling pliers…
A story of one man's utter failure, depression, frustration, and poverty, starting in August 1947 Chapter Nine: Mother does another bunk again Dad insisted that I came home from school, cleaned out the fire grate, chopped some wood, and laid the fire in readiness for his arrival home from work. He considered it a waste of money if I lit the fire before he got in. Also I was to ready a meal...
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