Published in the West Sussex Gazette on 19th July 2001.

Idleness was not an option for young Olive May Harman (nee Hewitt), who was brought up in East Grinstead in the early part of the last century.

'We very rarely asked 'what can I do?' and I do not remember ever hearing words 'I am bored'. My Mother would soon find us a job, cutting blocks of salt to fill salt jars or the soap into blocks. It came in large bars. Primrose Yellow, Carbolic and a weird looking one white with bits of green, brown and yellow, useful for scrubbing floors. The primrose yellow soap had a faint smell of well water and we all used it for washing and hair washing.

Mum worked very hard as all water had to be brought into the house -- and, when finished with, taken out again. The lavatory was at the top of the garden grown over by roses, honeysuckle and most things that would climb. At night, before we washed for bed Dad would collect all of us who needed to use the lavatory (or 'Little House' as we called it) and, with a lantern for dark nights, escort us up the path to the Little House at the top end of the garden.

One dark night I touched what I thought was a dog, but when the light was turned on it, it was a badger. Sometimes Dad showed us Glow Worms or we had a talk on the Stars or listened to a fox or owls and, as we lived near the woods, the Poplar trees - which, on a windy night, sounded like the sea on a pebble beach.

Lots of things were planned for moonlit nights. We also had, in the lane outside, one street lamp. It was a gas lamp that I often climbed up and turned off to help the man who was supposed to do it every morning.

We hardly ever saw a car in our lane, but saw many horses and carriages or other horse-drawn traffic, going to and from Imberhorne Manor. We also used to see the big timber wagons, four powerful Shire horses were harnessed to a long flat-based wagon with four or more huge tree trunks chained on to it. Now and again, the horses had a high 'set' of bells and brasses over their heads and red or blue bows and hair plaits on their manes.

Sometimes we saw a grand carriage, with a coachman in a tall hat and with a whip. The carriage often had a footman, dressed in livery and standing on the bar behind the carriage. His job was to jump down when they stopped and put the steps down ready for the passengers to alight.

Sometimes the Hunt also came up the lane. I loved the hounds, they all seemed so eager to start, but I felt sorry for the foxes although they were killers.

In front of our school was a small playground. We girls were supposed to keep on the 'girls' side and the boys on the other side, but usually we played together.

One day the Circus came to East Grinstead and the animals were brought through in cages, some drawn by the elephants. We were allowed to stay out in the playground and watch until the long trail of caravans had gone past!

There was a field at the top end of East Grinstead called the Fairfield. Here the circus stayed for a week with roundabouts, swings, coconut shies and many other attractions. When Dad took us, he brought us each a glass of Ginger Beer - and a Fairing Biscuit. These were big Gingerbread biscuits with sticky tops that were covered with small sweets called 'hundreds and thousands'.

Sometimes we had a Fair in Windmill Lane near the house where I was born and where I fell over into the fire and badly burnt my face and neck and still have the scars.

I also remember picking all the heads off Mum's great friend and neighbour's Sweet Williams. Flowers that her husband was growing for a garden competition. Funnily enough, the husband thought it was a real laugh and gave me an apple.'

Published in the West Sussex Gazette on 19th July 2001.