A poem that some can relate too

I  remember the cheese of my childhood,
And the bread that we cut with a knife,
When the children helped with the housework,
And the men went to work not the wife.
The cheese never needed a fridge,
And the bread was so crusty and hot,
The children were seldom unhappy
And the wife was content with her lot.
I remember the milk from the bottle,
With the yummy cream on the top,
Our dinner came hot from the oven,
And not from the fridge in the shop.
The kids were a lot more contented,
They didn't need money for kicks,
Just a game with their mates in the road,
And sometimes the Saturday flicks.
I remember the shop on the corner,
Where a pen'orth of sweets was sold
Do you think I'm a bit too nostalgic?
Or is it....I'm just getting old?
I remember the 'loo' was the lav
And the bogy man came in the night,
It wasn't the least bit funny
Going "out back" with no light.
The interesting items we perused
From the newspapers cut into squares,
And hung on a peg in the loo,
It took little to keep us amused.
The clothes were boiled in the copper,
With plenty of rich foamy suds
But the ironing seemed never ending
As Mum pressed everyone's 'duds'.
I remember the slap on my backside,
And the taste of soap if I swore
Anorexia and diets weren't heard of
And we hadn't much choice what we wore.
Do you think that bruised our ego?
Or our initiative was destroyed?
We ate what was put on the table
And I think life was better enjoyed.


  1. Ah, yes, I can relate, I am a baby boomer. Thank you so much for sharing and warm greetings from Montreal, Canada. :)

  2. I also remember being abused by my father and being afraid of the people in charge in case they were like him. That women would be like my mother. Ignoring the things that he did. He sexually abused me. Ignoring way it traumatised me. I am destroyed by his abuse of me.

  3. I know that many people were abused over this period, but I also know that this is one of the dark sides of life, that have been going on for hundreds of years. It does not help many of us, but like many I try to remain positive, because this illness is difficult to cope with on the bad days.

    I am sorry if this has brought back the sad memories


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I always say that we may have this illness, but we are all so different.

This is my own daily problems, but I would gladly share anyone elses, if they send them in,

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