Now that I think of it, I’m not too sure whether that badge was fully deserved. Long a purveyor of the“just out of bed” look as far as clothing is concerned, I used to take on jobs as a house cleaner in the afternoons, to supplement my minimum wage postman mornings. Clients, usually housewives (yes, I’m aware there is probably a more P.C. term), once they got over the surprise of a male cleaner, usually had me doing the usual spring-cleaning chores—dusting, scrubbing and vacuuming, but one in particular used to leave me their ironing to do. At home one day as I worked, or laboured for about 15 minutes over a single shirt, it quickly became apparent to this client that my ironing skills where somewhat deficient. I wasn’t called back.

In my clime and time, Enid Blyton was also impossible to secure from the school or public library. Something to do with Noddy and Big Ears I believe. Don’t get me started on Political Correctness…

My favourite Famous Five book was where they went and hung out in their Aunt’s Lighthouse for the summer hols. I read them around the time they were thinking of banishing these works from our school library because of the fact that the girls were always doing the dishes while the boys had adventures or something! But I read all the Secret Seven and Famous Five I could get my hands on.

You have reminded me of another story of my cousin (of the socks and sandals fame). This is kind of gross, be warned. We were like under 10. Once we went to the park together and someone had left a bag of fish guts etc in the bin after a fishing trip. While I watched mutely, my cousin proceeded to rip open the bag and throw this foul smelling stuff absolutely everywhere. God knows why. We got home, and he calmly said to his father, “Dad, someone threw fish guts all over the park again.” Without even blinking, his father, my uncle, furiously replied, “Why did you do that for?” I was amazed by his dad’s reaction, it still makes me laugh to this day.