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Born in 1938, Wyn Johnson, then Winifred (Winnie) Goodrum recalls some of her childhood in the 1940's.
Chores were something that no member of the household got out of, except of course my dad.
Doing dishes was a vastly different job then, compared with today. We had to boil the kettle and do the dishes in a big washing-up bowl, and if we had a roast we used to have to boil it twice, because of all the roasting pans. Whoever did the washing had to put the dishes away as well, and that was usually me.
Another job was washing the steps. I have no idea why we washed them so many times but we did, weekly; the flight going down into the cellar was the worst because they were stone and had to have the sides done with a yellow stone, as did the front steps which were done more often.
The front steps had a line drawn diagonally across the corners and then filled in with the yellow stone, it had to be correct. I have no idea why but it was a very important job.
Bath night was Friday night, and the tin bath was filled in front of the fire. If my dad wanted a bath he went in first, then whichever of us that was the cleanest went next, and so on until we were all done, using the same water. Then the bath was dragged to the door and emptied out over the flags. Needless to say the step was the first job on Saturday mornings.
After the war, and as we got older, we were given a sixpence and allowed to go to the slipper baths, which were just public baths at the local pool. We got a bath full of hot water, soap and a great big fluffy towel with half an hour to luxuriate, but we had a half hour walk home which rather spoiled it.
When we were old enough, spending-money was given to us for doing our bit in the house, 6d a week, and we used it to go to the matinee at the local cinema, buy an ice cream and still have change for sweets.
I remember Whitsuntide: we all got new clothes then; always new shoes and dress even if we couldn't have a new coat. We used to go to the harvest festival at the local church. We don't have anything like that here in Australia where I live now.
My childhood years were happy times. We didn't have much money, but we had plenty of love to go around. All the families did things together on our street, we all grew vegies, and everyone made bread. If any child was hungry they could go to anyone's house for a slice of bread and jam, no questions asked.
Things changed a bit with the introduction of the radio, but that's another story.
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