What sounds remind you of your childhood home?

Raised voices or angry silences which tbh I found more worrying as I was always waiting for the next angry explosion. Ours was not a happy home.

Harris27

Al doonican on a Saturday night. The smell of home cooking Yorkshire puddings and mams steak pie in the oven.

Even Val Doonican ?

Sounds and smells of the Arabian Sea - it has a distinct smell at dusk - and also the sounds of the crows returning to roost ❤️

Al doonican on a Saturday night. The smell of home cooking Yorkshire puddings and mams steak pie in the oven.

Our farm animals.
Sing something simple, a radio programme on sunday evenings
(I used to go to my bedroom and listen to Radio Luxemberg 208.

Mrs Dales Diary and children’s hour on the radio
My grandads grandfather clock chiming every half hour when I slept at their house which was quite often and the sound of Billy cottons Wakeywakey coming from his big radiogram in the hall

The Radio.

Classical music and a lot of opera coming up through the ceiling from downstairs into my tender and juvenile eardrums, at the time I hated both, but have since done a 360 degree turn around, particularly as to Puccini who I now love with a passion. However, at the time I was very pleased when, they, the parents, discovered The Beatles and lightened up a bit musically.

Somebody mentioned cuckoos.
I've not heard one for years, but always did as a child.

Family Favourites on the radio.

The sound of rooks in the elm trees in the early morning and at twilight.

Listen with Mother in the afternoons, while mum did the ironing.
I was allowed half an apple and a drink of water.

Oh yes, the football results on Saturday afternoon.
Forfar - five. Fife - Four.

Family Favourites while waiting for the Sunday roast - one week pork, next beef, next lamb. The sound of my Grandmother sharping the carving knife in readiness.

The Archers and it's theme tune, on every afternoon without fail I thought farming/village life sounded marvellous.

Children's radio on Saturday mornings with songs like 'the Laughing Policeman' and 'I'm a pink toothbrush [you're a blue toothbrush]., 'Nellie the Elephant'....

The rag'n'bone man calling out as he came around.

The sound of the ice cream van doing the rounds. He didn't come down our road so I had to keep a sharp ear out if he was around the corner.

My dad laughing at something, he had a real belly laugh that was so infectious, or my mum singing along to something or other and making up the words, she believed she had a good voice and none of us had the heart to tell her otherwise.

The hiss of the pressure cooker with a pan of stew cooking.
Mum singing Judy Garland and Rogers and Hammerstein songs whilst she was baking.
Coming in from my Saturday job to the sound of dad listening to the football scores on the radio.

Yes to my dad whistling, and the theme tunes to wireless programmes and Sunday Night at the London Palladium (with that sinking feeling about school again the next day). Clinkers being riddled. The sizzle of chips being lowered into the boiling fat. Rag and booooooh from the rag and bone man who never got to the n. My mam calling me in for tea - Mar-Greeeet - she’d take a breath in the middle and the last syllable was shouted so loud and high I’d race to the house to stop her doing it again! Oh, and a lot of clanking bottles from when we lived in a pub.

My Dad singing the same few lines of a song while washing up. They only one I can remember is '76 trombones'! Also my Dad shouting up the stairs for my sister and I to go to sleep instead of whispering and giggling. Also my Dad turning the last of the 6 'pips' (time signal) for the 7am news on the kitchen radio up loud to tell us to get up for school. My Dad was responsible for a lot of noise in our house

Father playing the piano. He was a professional musician so it was a background sound.

Lying in bed cosy and warm in the dark and hearing the muffled sound of the adults in the family downstairs chatting and listening to the radio.

For my first 4 years, wartime and the immediate years after it, it was my mother and grandmother, then my father returned from India, and my grandmother's bombed house was rebuilt, it was my parents voices I could hear.

I couldn't hear what they were saying or what they were listening to, but now and again, even now, when family are staying and I get a migraine and will be lying down on my bed, I will hear the same murmur, this time from DH, AC and their families, and the sound, now, of tv, and the sound is the same and just as comforting.

The piano, played not very well by one or the other of us. Various wireless programmes - Mrs Dale’s Diary, Dick Barton, Children’s Hour, my brother laughing himself silly at Life With the Lyons.

In the sumner, lawn mowers from neighbouring gardens. They drove me mad when I was trying to revise for exams in the garden.

The sound of my father hammering in the cellar as he mended the family’s shoes with new leather.

Hens clucking, and cockerels crowing.

Dad had a smallholding.

BlueBelle

My dad whistling as he worked, sadly, you rarely hear anyone whistle nowadays

Same here! Dad was always whistling and my son can often be heard whistling which I guess is rare in a younger person. I love to hear it and reminds me of my Dad so much.

Wind chimes, crickets and the sound/sight of an airplane going over as I lay in the grass trying to find shapes in the clouds.

❤️