I'm feeling old and bored today. The snow is still out there. The dogs have been out for a pee and come back in quickly.
This is a true account of a typical day in my life when I was about ten years old, sixty one years ago.Sunday morning, mid summer and already the sun was reheating the parched garden and softening the tar bubbles at the edges of the road. I ate my porridge and drank my mug of strong tea and telling my mum I was going for a walk, I headed off down our road. It was deserted apart from the milkmans cart and horse. I said hello to the horse as I passed. His name was Ginger and he had an uncertain temperament. It wasn't unknown for him to attempt to kick anyone who tried to pat him. Todayhe just stood stoically waiting for the milkman to return after accepting the offer of tea and gossip with Mrs. Edgington.I decided to be a red indian scout today . I had the large knife that my granddad had made me, stuck in my belt (no sheath) so I was ready for any dangerous situations as I turned onto the footfath that ran past the grammar school and headed for the wilds. Crossing a lane I climbed the first stile and the path narrowed, the long grass, still bearing the dew and cobwebs of dawn,brushing my legs.Over another stile , onwards between fir trees then hazels to the last stile on which I sat, pondering which route to take. The path dropped quickly now to a stream and small bridge under wich, each year, a wren made it's nest. I decided to turn left over a broken fence and cross wild land to the goats cave.I crawled through the dry grass, my knife in hand, ready for anything, and came face to face with a large coiled grass snake which hissed at me. The snake went one way and Running Deer the other! When my heart resumed something like it's normal pace, I went onward and down the hillside and found the sandy apron in front of the goats cave. I sat for a while in the hot sun looking down on an old farmhouse on the far side of the stream. Lighting my way with a bit of candle, I entered the cave on hands and knees . It was cold and dark and had a strange but not unpleasant smell. Several yards in I saw the two gleaming eyes of a goat and made my second panic stricken retreat of the day! I went down the grassy hill moving left along a narrow track made by the goats and ended up by what was known as the Sheep Dip where, no doubt, later in the day, local children would splash and play and hunt wild strawberries nearby. I made my way along the narrow road towards home, stopping to drink at the spring where the clear cold water bubbled up through white sand. Up the hill with high walls on each side , then along the lane to where my road began.Mum wasn't really interested in where I'd been and Dad had left for his sunday drinking session in the British Legion. My two brothers were sitting in the garden under the first apple tree, reading. I went down to the raspberry canes and made a camp.Father was late home. Three oclock for Sunday dinner. We'd been sitting aroundthe kitchen table since two, waiting, tense. He came in the back door and slammed it shut. We kept quiet. He complained that the dinner was cold and the meat was tough but at least he didn't throw it out of the window this time. When he'd finished, he went out to the front verandah and went to sleep in his deckchair.Knowing better than to make any noise, my brother Dave and I left mum with the washing up and went up to a place called Busbridge park and climbed in the Beech tree (huge) pretending we were pirates . Some bigger boys arrived and not wanting to risk a Bashing Up, we thought it wise to move on and drifted through the woodsto the Devil's Temple. If you ran round it seven times and lay down, the devil would appear. Well it didn't work so my brother and I , feeling dizzy, staggered off down the stony path to the Lake where we were told to push off by some nasty fishermen! We got onto the top path which overlooked the lake and threw some stones into it to annoy the men who shouted angrily saying they knew who we were and would see our parents. We just hoped they didn't wake dad up, that's all!!We ran up the hill to a wild place with no name with overgrown statues of angels and crosses. My brother pointed out a courting couple and we spied on them for a while until our giggles caused the young man to shout at us. We withdrew and on a signal, let fly with our catapults at them andran for it, racing between tussocks and trees until we reached the lane leading home. Still laughing, we reached our house. Dad had gone out again. Mum gave us Marmite sandwiches. " What have you been doing?" she asked. " Nothing much." we said grinning at each other.This was a fairly typical day in my life when I was around ten years old.My dad was the only unpleasant thing in my life apart from school which I disliked intensely. I lived for fun and freedom roaming the countryside near my home. Thankyou for your indulgence in reading this. Mick.

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