It was the late 1940's and we were living in a 3 bedroomed detached house known as 'Clodagh', Station Road, Earl Shilton, recalled Martin Skeffington, who was born in 1943. My parents struggled to pay for the house, and although in today's terms its value was very low then, nevertheless it was a lot for my parents. At that time my mother was not working and my father Arthur was employed as a clicker at Eatough's Ltd slipper manufacturers. It was not a highly paid job, relatively skilled but often subject to short time when father would be laid off for a period.

My father's family. Walter and Lucy Skeffington, lived in a small terraced house known as 32, New Street, Earl Shilton. I only remember them living on the ground floor and the only times I was allowed upstairs it was an adventure. Upstairs was basically empty and very dusty. There was an old top hat in a hatbox on the stairs but I remember little else.

32, New Street was always a pleasure to visit because you always had a welcome from grandma and granddad. They lived in the back room with the front room being the bedroom. There was a large table in the room with a large green coal bucket underneath. Grandma sat in a wooden armed chair knitting, and granddad sat opposite in a more comfortable chair. He smoked a pipe and had his brass spill box adjacent, from which he drew a cardboard spill, which he lit in the fire to light his pipe.

Opposite grandma, on the wall was a clock that had a large dial and a picture, the glass from which reflected visitors who might call at the back door. Grandma always knew who was calling and welcomed you as soon as you entered. I remember her as a fairly large woman, dressed in black or later navy blue, who shuffled along with the aid of a walking stick.

The table was covered by a green baize cloth, which never seemed to be changed, washed or the like. On the mantelpiece were large brass jugs and other brass items, which we were told came from 'The Great Exhibition' in London. How true this is I do not know. Also in the room was a large cupboard with drawers at the base. It held whatever crockery my grandparents possessed. To the rear of grandma was the wireless, which was later substituted for our old television set (black & white). The wallpaper was always the same: a dingy red and black leaf pattern which, when finally removed, proved to be the top layer of about six other layers of paper.

In the front room was the bed. This was a large double bed with brass bed knobs. A sideboard stood against the wall leading to the front door. On this stood various vases. In the window was a stand with an aspidistra growing in a large pot. Over the bed was a large print of the archangel Gabriel guiding a small girl across a plank over a chasm. The girl was carrying flowers to presumably place on her parents' grave in the graveyard across the chasm. A typical Victorian print. The floor was covered by lino and rugs. In the corner was the shilling in the slot electricity meter.

Beneath the stairs was a flight of brick steps, which led down to a non-existent cellar. There were shelves in this room, which acted as a pantry. The kitchen was very basic with a stone sink and an old gas stove. Outside were the toilet and a shed. The garden was narrow and never cultivated as far as I can remember.

One of my fondest memories is of Granddad with his large white jug visiting the off-licence, Walter Wightman's, next door for his pint of ale.