One of the things that was told amongst the boys locally was the legend of the giant pike in the pit across the field from our house. The pit was in the centre of a big field and was surrounded by willows that over hung all the banks. Brambles grew in between the willows and were very nearly impenetrable, you had to very careful when trying to get down to the water or you could slip and fall in.
Jinty green teeth grew in the water and we all knew that if you fell in and got tangled up in the green slimy weed you stood no chance of getting out. Then if you did manage to swim the pike would grab you and pull you under.
Many an hour we sat with sticks, fishing line and bent pin with a garden worm trying to tempt this wonderful giant pike to bite but all we ever saw was a stickle back or two. At least it taught us patience, how long it seemed when you sat quiet and watched the coots with their chicks picking out the insects from the duck weed. When a dragon fly danced along the surface of the pond and dragging its tail in the water, rings of light spreading out as it scooted across the glassy screen. Water beetles would rise to the top and take a bubble of air under their wing case like a diamond on their back as they dived below again. The newts would swim lazily under the weed looking for insects as the water skimmers looked down as if to say, you can’t catch me, then shot off dancing the waltz like an ice skater. Sky larks would be singing overhead at the top of their voices, you could never find a larks nest in the long grass. All you had to do was sit quietly and all the world went on around you. It was about 20 years later that I realised the story was meant to be a deterrent to you going to the pit.
Summer time was long lazy days with lots of cold drinks and water bottle fights. I got told off for emptying the Fairy liquid bottle so that I had a squeezy bottle like the other kids on the street. The EWS tank was not the place to be on this hottest days because the water had all evaporated and the rotting stuff at the bottom was rather smelly.
We could sit on the curb on the road side and get balls of melted tar from the edge of the road. It was rolled into shapes like plastercine and left on the paths. It would stick to a shoe as people walked by and they would then get annoyed as they stuck to the pavement. The trick to getting the tar off your hand before you went home was to find a bit of turpentine or white spirit to clean your hands. I got home once forgetting to clean my hands, mum did not have any turps or spirit so she got some Stork margarine and made me rub my hands with it. It worked, it dissolved the tar and left my hands lovely and clean.
The farmers would come along our road when they took their crops to market or to the big factories. Heinz was just down the road in Kitt Green near Wigan and they took potatoes and carrots. Birds Eye had opened a big new factory in Kirkby and the farms were taking all the peas that were grown locally for freezing. When the tractors came down the road with a cart full of pea vines we ran behind and grabbed some off. The biggest boys would swing on the back of the carts and pull the vines off and throw them down to us little ones running behind. It was great fun to then to sit and pop the pods to eat the fresh garden peas. You will never get sweeter than fresh picked like that.
On a Sunday afternoon there would be a sound of a hand bell ringing across the estate and all the kids would come running out of the houses. We would queue on the corner and wait for the ice cream man, he would come round the corner on a tricycle with a fridge box on the front. He sold cornets, wafers and ninety nines from a bucket of vanilla ice cream. He made them in front of you with a special scoop that he squeezed to release the ice cream, you could even have raspberry sauce on them too if you wanted. The ice lollies came in one flavour and that was orange. Mum would come out with a big bowl and buy the ice cream to have after Sunday tea, it was lovely with tined peaches or fruit cocktail. We thought it was really fancy like they got in the cafe with the wafers stuck in the ice cream.
We collected the ice lolly sticks and put them in the back wheel spokes of our bikes so that it made a sound like a motor bike as you rode along. At least we thought it sounded like a motor bike. If you got a few sticks you could weave them together to make a flying boomerang, it was a flat mat of woven lolly sticks and if thrown right would fly round in a circle for you to catch again. We had hours of fun with these, until they hit a wall and smashed apart.
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