Win the chance to have your family tree researched and recorded - worth £150 *NOW CLOSED*

My Nanny's jacket potatoes on a Saturday night whilst watching the Generation Game. Such simple pleasures but just perfect!

My grandmother picking me up from school in the winter and getting home to a real fire and crumpets. I dried my hair whilst sat on the hearth rug and eating them.

My favourite memory is when my birth mother travelled up to Fraserburgh in Scotland from Sheffield to see me. She took me to the shops and held my hand and bought me a red London toy bus. It was lovely to see my mother again. I was eight and she had previously travelled from Sheffield to Fraserburgh to give me to her sister who adopted me when I was 2 and a half.

Sledging down my local golf course hill with playmates and aiming for the small bridge which linked both parts of the course and trying not to fall in the frozen stream which ran beneath the bridge- a bit dangerous but we all survived! Great fun was had by all.

Being taken to Kingston-upon-Thames with my mum, dad and sisters for the day to visit my dad's family. I must have only been around 4 years old. Dad's older sister lived in the family home with an outside toilet, spiders and all. No toilet paper, just old newspaper torn into pieces hung from a nail on the door. This would have been in the mid to late fifties. Dad passed away in 1985 and I know very little about his family.

Family gatherings when my father and his elder and younger brothers reminisced together. Their stories could be either hilarious or sad as they grew up through tough times. Life for them, as children, was hard, but they got through it by being there for each other.

When I could go stay with my Grandparents, that was when I was my happiest.

Playing with the two enormous cart horses who lived in the field behind my house - winding between those giant legs, and having them whiffle in my face, and feeding them the occasional ice cream cone. I still remember their names, Dick and Prince. They started my lifelong love affair with animals.

Back in the days of no seatbelts, when you could have no space and sit in the boot, I remember sitting there with my cousin, Wild Thing by the Troggs was playing and we both started dancing like hippies, all passengers in other cars were laughing their heads off and our car was full of giggles

I was around 10 years old and my sister was 8 , we wanted to go to the cinema but didn't have enough money , so I dressed my sister as a baby and she climbed into a pram , we attempted to enter the cinema , unfortunately the lady at the sweets kiosk rumbled us and we had to leave , we still laugh about it now , I don't know how we ever thought we could get away with it .

Picking and shelling peas with my Nan in her tiny garden, and her showing me her bunny rabbits (snapdragons).

My first day at school and being allowed to climb on the Monkey Jungle bars in the school hall while waiting for the teacher to allocate us to our classroom .

My mum getting appendicitis on the first day of a two week holiday in Cornwall and then living on jam sandwiches for the rest of the holiday, thanks Dad, and I haven't eaten one since. That was about 1960.

Playing with my first puppy.

I remember the one and only time my mum got ‘tidally’ on the Christmas sherry. She was a dour, hard, unsmiling sort of woman, and this was the only time I ever saw a different side to her.

Playing in old air raid shelters at the back of our house.

Cardboard sliding down the hills with my dad

Looking forward to a fish supper on a Friday night and looking forward to going to the park the following day.

Baking for the first time with my paternal grandmother.
She was a quiet lady whose eyes smiled as well as her mouth.
Sadly she died when i was 7.

My dad allowing me to work with him when he was a taxi driver. I would hide in the area next to him.

my favourite childhood memory was walking over the fields to the nearest pub, it was happy because we were doing it as a family, but only because my dad was injured at work and had his burnt hands bandaged, however, he may have been in pain, but the days he spent with us are some of the happiest I remember.. as he had lots of time for us, as was off work sick .

My favourite memory is of us going on holiday, my Dad driving our grey Morris 1000, my Mum in the front seat and me lying on the back seat with the picnic rug. We would stop off in Cardiff for a cooked breakfast, in a little cafe where my Dad knew the owner. The excitement building as we got to the old Seven Bridge and I knew then we were on our way down to Devon. After we crossed the Seven bridge, we used to stop off a few times for tea and Welsh cakes. My Dad would light the primus stove the kettle would go on and he and my Mum would have a cup of tea in yellow plastic cups, there were some sort of red tables the would attatch to the car doors, the tea would go on there and Mum would get out the tin of Welsh cakes which she would have made on the Friday and I would have orange squash also in the yellow cups. The M5 wasn't built then and there was always bottle necks of traffic on the way down, it would take us all day to get there, but it was part of the enjoyment of the holidays. Writing these memories down has brought back the sights and smells of these happy times.

I remember as a small child going to my Grandmothers and always hunting in a big sideboard to find the sweets that were always hidden in there.

On a very hot day in 1950something, having a water pistol fight with my parents and my maternal grandparents who lived in the adjoining terrace house (our kitchen windows looked into theirs). The water pistols were bicycle pumps, a watering can and empty Jif lemon bottles - except for Grandad who had my seaside bucket! I would have been six or seven.

Waiting on our front garden wall with my sister for Dad to get home from work on his bike.