General Chat

When I was a small boy my old man was a policeman in Essex not so far from London.

The forerunners of the Essex boys murdered his police colleague.

Seeing as my old man couldn't take a hint the same mob came for me, my father and his dog who used to run his beat with him following a push bike. So I got to see my old man beaten up and our dog murdered in front of my eyes.

Dunno what effect it had on me except to be very intolerant of bullies.

Very sad tale indeed Rollo. Don't know how you can be so apparently relaxed about it.

Just graphic in the way you describe it Liz.A reminder of a memory at the back of my mind.

My thanks to all who have taken tje trouble to reply. Much appreciated.

Happy days

I'm as old as some of my teeth.

I just remembered the time I fell over at infant school, I was a very timid 5 yr old and another child gave me a twizzle, when she let go I fell over as I was so dizzy and hit my chin on the edge of a flagstone in the playground. I remember having the wound cleaned with witchhazel and then gauze and a bandage being put on, wound round and round my head and under my chin. I was taken to the local children's hospital in a teacher's car, had hardly been in a car before. I was wearing a little coat and hat set my aunt had passed down to me from a cousin, it was like a little old lady's bonnet, and it sat on my head over the bandage. I had to have stitches in my chin and a plaster which was shaped like a cricket bat with a handle at both ends. I know I was given a sweet for being brave then I was taken home to my Mum and young brothers. A week later I had to go and have the stitches out and was annoyed that my brother got a sweet as well as me.
The smell of witchhazel has always reminded me of that time and I still have the scar of the cut and the two dots either side of it of the stitch marks, even after 61 yrs.

Lizx