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Being taken "over the wall" to Auntie Edie, where she would give me my dinner. Mum had cooked it, but I often wouldn't eat it, so, over I went to Auntie Edie, and her boys David and Derek.

Sunday clothes on and my 3 sisters and I all had the stocking taken out of our hair to leave ringlets tied up with matching ribbon and matching dresses mum had made.
Then walking across town with mum & dad to nana's for Sunday lunch which meant I had to go all the way down her garden to cut the fresh mint then chop it up for nana to make the sauce it was always my job.
My nana had 9 children and always had stories to tell around the dinner table.

Baking huge jacket potatoes in the oven that was heated by the fire next to it at my gran's house. The potatoes were put in to cook soon after breakfast and were ready for lunch. The house smelt wonderful and the potatoes were crispy on the outside yet fluffy in the centre. Eaten with lashings of butter and grated cheese of course. Made my day!

Returning to the UK after living in Spain for a couple of years in the 1950s, my Grandmother was horrified when my big sister asked for a glass of water in Spanish. My sister had started school in Spain and Spanish had become her first language

Roaming with lots of other kids my age in a large tenement garden which backed on to a disused railway. BLISS!

Picking bluebells in a wood with my mum. Still love the smell of bluebells.

After searching and searching, I found my great great great grandfathers farmhouse! It was translating the writing from the original that I found the hardest!

Have been there many times know and just knowing where he was born and raised has given me immense comfort.

I grew up on a farm -My favourite memory was -
Hand-rearing a calf for a whole summer holiday and then watching it grow. My Dad used to ride him. He was a very large pet in a pen with lots of other bullocks. He always came to the fence to talk to us and we stroked his ears and neck.
Unfortunately, one day he had to go on the butcher's wagon with the others, that was the worst day of my childhood. I had to learn to get over it.

Sitting on my Dad’s knee listening to ‘Journey into Space’ on the radio when I was about seven.

My favourite memory is of being in the woods with a friend one day, and being lucky enough to see two young red squirrels playing in a tree right in front of us, oblivious to our presence.

Having marathon Monopoly sessions during the school holidays that would go on for days at a time.

Staying at my grandmother's, where I could have been back in Victorian times. Her house smelt of lavender and beeswax, had a big old coal-fire range and a cold water tap in the scullery. A parlour, saved for best, with a chaise longue, stuffed birds under a glass dome, oil paintings of unknown (to me) relatives and the ubiquitous print of When Did You Last See Your Father? I'd sleep in one of her long flannelette nighties, buttoned up to the neck, sinking right down into the middle of a huge feather bed, with a kelly lamp to read by and a gazunder for emergencies! My grandmother was born in 1880, and would tell me tales of travelling with her sister by steam train to stay with their friends in a country house near York for the weekend, being admitted by the butler and having their clothes laid out by a maid. They were once met at the station afterwards by their father, who had to tell them that their baby sister had died suddenly while they were away. I'd love to know more about the family, and how it came about that two coalminers' daughters were moving in such elevated circles.

My favourite memories are those when I went shopping in the village with my mum, particularly on Friday, market day. The various stalls and the general busyness enthralled me, but I loved the safety of holding my mum's hand.

After spending a long time in a single room in hospital with nothing explained to me and my parents gowned and masked when they came to see me (I had polio). I eventually went home and to the local hospital regularly for physiotherapy. The physio was the first person to be really nice and caring and when I managed to do the exercises she gave me a square of chocolate and, more importantly a big smile. She ended the session with lying me under a warm light. I still love to sit in the sun.

Catching the bus to meet my Dad in town, going swimming and then having Horlicks and a bacon cob in the milk bar before catching the bus home again. My Dad had a motor bike and went home on that but he met me from the bus and we walked home together.

I loved that time of just being on my own with my Dad.

We had gone to visit relatives in Shetland and went down to the beach near the house. The voe (inlet) was similar to a fjord. Thousands and thousands of tiny fish had been driven into the voe and the water was black with them. When you paddled you had them all around your feet. I had a large old fashioned saucepan with a long handle and was trying to catch them in it - but it had a hole in the bottom.

Sunday tea - a tin of (pink) salmon and salad! We thought it was great!

My nan meeting me out of school and sitting on a wooden bench in a little thatched roof shelter, in the sun, eating ice cream
On Sundays visiting my other gran and playing with her button box while the grown ups all played crib
Simple but stayed in my mind

During one very cold winter being snuggled down in our bed settee (Mum called it a put-you-up) with my Mum when my Dad was working nights. It was the only room with heating and the only time I was permitted to sleep downstairs. I often envied the visitors who slept there.

Receiving three leg piano for Christmas with a tin of toffees with the lid being 3D and tangerine and was so happy we were more easy pleased some years back

When my stabilisers were taken off my bike. Oh the freedom! (And the smell of TCP!)
It was the 60s but I don't remember an awful lot of cars on our back roads.

Walking through the stubble of a wheat field. gleaning left over ears of corn for the hens - and getting my calves scratched by the stalks - I must have been small!

On balmy summer evenings when there was no school next day sitting on the back doorstep with mum and dad smelling all the fragrant shrubs and learning the names of them. Its the little things that mean so much.

My Dad reading "Just so stories" to me when I was about 6 and suddenly realising that I could actually read the words too! "How the elephant got his trunk" was my special favourite.