(you can blame Bill Bryson for this thread!)

I miss the proper cinema with two levels and hundreds of seats and sticky floors - these clean new ones with only 50-100 seats seem so sterile.

I miss one cent lollies - and even less - a 20c bag of mixed lollies would get you about 30.

I miss being able to take a bottle back to the shop and get 5c and actually be able to buy something with it. How come in 30 years that price never went up? You still only get 5c and have to take a bazillion bottles at once to a depot.

I miss the park I grew up opposite - the beautiful autumn leaves shows, the stillness of it with the first snow of the year, the brilliance of the summer and the duckpond. The park is still there but I am not.

I'm sure there is loads more but over to you ...

I miss buying 10 penny mixes I never had many sweets when I was a child, but every so often I was allowed to go to the local shops and buy a 10 penny mix. It was probably full of sugar and junk...but I will loved it! There used to be jelly dummys, chocolate tools and white chocolate mice. But my favourites were the white chocolate fish and chips

Gosh, I had totally forgotten those fish'n'chips, JM - thanks for reminding me - now I can drool over their memory alongside you. I, too, have fond memories of Saturday pocket money and 10p bags of junk. I used to love the 'fruit salads' and 'Black Jacks', the loop-the-lop ice pops, the Wibbly-Wobbly-Wonder and Golly Bars.

I also have fond memories of the TV programmes like Saturday morning Swop Shop, It's a knockout, Crackerjack (I was so envious of the armloads of goodies the kids won on that show), I miss the thrill of having an unexpected day off schol because of burst pipes in winter, or snowfall which was magical (not dangerous for driving on, as I now see it). Most of all I miss the oodles of free time I had to idle away working my way through the books at the library. Being an adult has it's drawbacks

I never watched much TV when I was a child...more interested in reading (nothing different there!) I also remember the "Golly" on the Robertson's jams. In fact I've got a number of "Golly badges". I think it is a shame that the badges have gone out of favour slightly these days.

Naughtiness is what I miss most.

I miss sneaking over the scout hall fence and filling up a bag with bottles that I could get 5 cents for from the local corner shop.

Taking a bottle of alcohol from my parents cabinet and replacing the contents with water or tea then choking on it as my mates and I tried it.

The smoking of a cigarette before school in "The Laneway" was great and the one that was smoked after school on the small timber bridge that led from the schoolgrounds over "The Creek" was also enjoyable.

I really miss going to the local bowling alley to play video games and I also miss shoving an empty matchbox up the coin return of the broken public telephone and retrieving the twenty cent pieces to be used to play the video games.

Exploring old half-torn down buildings and smashing the windows.

Having rock fights with people that lived in different streets or up the end of our street.

Leaving school at lunchtime and not going back.

Generally doing things that I was told or simply knew that I wasn`t allowed or supposed to do.

Your post reminded me of others, Roos ...

I miss going under Kite Street through the storm water drain, up along side Myer's shop (where the drain was open) and back under the roads for the next bit which was really long and I never did it without a torch (few did). We used to be told that if it ever rained we'd all be washed out to the dam but it never happened.

Climbing right to the top of the tree that we were expressly told not to. (my brother did fall and hurt his ankle which put paid to that for a while)

I miss that feeling of real excitement for Christmas or the last day of school.

So much...

Back in the early fifties children didn't have many toys and we made our own fun. Where I lived was near a lot of uncultivate ground, overgrown with bushes and trees. We used to make dens in the middle of bushes, climb trees, balanced on a pipe which straddled a brook (and falling off, it was only about a foot deep), wall-hugging as we went under a bridge over the said brook, and slipping into the water - our feet were often soaking wet. Then we had stepping stones over the brook - that brook formed a huge part of our fun. Then there was a huge billboard we used to climb behind. How the heck none of us damaged ourselves I have no idea but I don't recall anyone getting worse than a scraped knee.

The children used to play hide and seek, loads of us used to play. I suppose we used to have a boundary as to how far we could go to hide, the games would last for ages without anyone getting bored.

I miss the milk float which used to be pulled by a horse, the horses knew the routes blindfold which was just as well as at Christmas people would give the milkies whiskey to drink and often they would be completely pie-eyed by the end of the round and the horse would take them safely back to the dairy. When I think back to those horses, they were so well trained, they just used to stop and wait for the milkie, never tied up to anything, never/walked ran off. We used to take a bucket out and collect any droppings and take them home for the garden. Pooh.

This time of year would be blackberrying time, we used to collect fruit and take it home to our mothers who used to make either Summer Pudding, blackberry and apple pies or jam with the fruit. A little later would bring us to chestnuting, when we collected chestnuts to eat. Those two activities were fine, but we also used to go 'scrumping', stealing apples from gardens, they were never ripe, horrid.

We didn't have a television until I was about nine so watching that wasn't an option. I sometimes used to watch at friends' homes, a rare treat.

I miss waking up without a "sleep hangover", with real energy and no aching arms or back....I miss the sound of baseball games being broadcast on radios that would drift through window screens on working class South Park Street where I grew up...I miss eating Campbells canned beans with miniature hot dogs while watching Wild World of Sports boxing with my ex-boxer grandfather on Saturday nights...I miss the feeling I used to get when we neighborhood kids would play elaborate "imagination" games and pretend to be horses or Civil War soldiers or secret agents...i.e. that was anything was possible and the whole world was just waiting for us to claim it.

<I miss the milk float which used to be pulled by a horse, the horses knew the routes blindfold which was just as well as at Christmas people would give the milkies whiskey to drink and often they would be completely pie-eyed by the end of the round and the horse would take them safely back to the dairy. >

I love this snapshot from your past, Sue. Milkies, whiskey, and their horses! The image is beautiful and sweet and makes me want to have one just like it.

Saturday morning pictures at the Fleapit, and coming home and acting out all the films we saw. Cherry knocking all down our road. Riding in my uncle's motor cycle sidecar going to the dog races. Going to the golf course on Sundays, caddying for my uncle and finding lost golf balls and selling them for 5 bob.Waiting in the pub garden for my uncle to bring my pop and crisps (he used to make me run the length of the pub garden shouting "Uncle, Uncle!" so the girls wouldn't think he was my dad!) .
Having a sly ciggie under the school stage. Hiding up in the school attics, missing lessons, till my foot went through the plaster of the classroom underneath.
The Youth Club and all the fuss of getting dolled up for the dances. That lurch in the lower stomach when HE asked you for a dance, or could he take you home...
Window shopping on Saturday mornings, trying on hats in BHS, giggling helplessly. Going down the road on Saturday evenings to watch Six-five special on the neighbour's TV.
Jazz Club, Coffee bars. Going to see Cliff Richard, Dickie Valentine, Dave Clark.
London and all the joys of the 60's , living in Soho,Two Eyes, 100 Oxford St, Ronnie Scott's, Humphrey Littletons, oooh goodness me I might write a book...

I agree with everyone about the candy and entertainments. Yep, the carefree days were a lot of fun but what I miss most is my mom. I am older than most here (81 to be exact) and grew up during the depression. Mama wouldn't let us starve or go without. Heck, we didn't even know those were hard times. We didn't have a lot but we always had mama and that is what I miss most. Maybe I'm just a sentimental old jerk but I sure miss that love that only she could give.

Quote:

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How many people get up on Christmas Day with the same joy they did back when they were younger? Not just because the piles of presents grew increasingly smaller The last day of school was the same. I don't know how many of you would agree with me, but as i went through my later High School years, i started to dread them because i knew that i was getting older, and time was going faster than one had hoped

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Christmas has always (and probably always will be) my favourite time of year. Although this year will be the first without Dad, so it will be a lot different. But I really enjoy opening the presents, early in the morning (even though I know exactly what is in most of them )Summer holidays and Christmas holidays were always fun too, when I was young, although I did nothing extra special

I miss the freedom of long days spent in the nearby wooded area, playing Swiss Family Robinson, building our houses and equipping them from what could be found in the woods. We would be gone for hours, but mom never had to worry about us the way that I'd be worried about my kids in similar circumstances today (if they could even find a wooded area within walking distance).
Then in the evening we'd play kick the can, or wild mustangs. The whole neighbourhood would play and we'd run through everybody's yard and the only one who'd care was mean old Mr. Snyder next door to us. So we'd throw things against his garage door so the thumps would disturb him.
And then there were the block parties where everyone would roll out their charcoal burning BBQs and pull out the salads and there would be dancing in the street. It was great fun.
Now I barely know my neighbours beyond two houses on either side.

Roos you really were a naughty boy!

I miss the way you would get so caught up in playing that the outside, adult world just didn't exist - especially those 'imagination' games Greta talks about.

Neighbourhood games like kick the can that would have seemingly hundreds of kids - your close friends, strangers from three streets over....

I miss just going outside after supper or on Saturday and knowing that there would be someone to play with or something to do - no plans needed making. If there were no kids outside already, you would just bang on doors until you found somebody. I had to be home by the time the streetlights came on - I remember that mad rush to get home in the time between the first flicker and a steady shine.

nic1990 , by 'lollies' am I correct in thinking that you mean sweets (candies)? If so, name the ones you miss the most and who knows, we might be able to do something about it!

I think I'm really lucky, for the most part. I met my best friend when I was five, and I was just over at her house on Saturday. We might not play Thundercats in her backyard anymore, but even just being with the person who is such a big part of my childhood memories is a lot like being IN my childhood. And I have a young daughter, to whom I read all my old books, and play all my old games, and don't mind acting "childish" by dressing up at Halloween, or splashing in puddles with her, or running around like a crazy woman in the park. And with Mom and Dad and their acreage, and Mom putting up all sorts of goodies for winter, I get to do more berry-picking and helping with canning and jam-making now than I did as a child. I guess at this time in my life, I have more opportunities than a lot of people to hang on to a lot of my childhood.

And I was lucky, too, in that I had an 80's childhood, but because of my family in Wyoming, got a taste of what childhood was like with less...well, with less. The hard work associated with country living, the fun of running wild in the sage brush, finding fossils and old coal miners' artifacts in the hills, riding horses and playing in corn-stalk teepees. Even growing up in a rural state, most of my friends did not get the opportunity to experience the simpler aspects of life that I did as a child. It was all GI Joes and My Little Ponies, summers at the swimming pool and winters at the skating rink. And while I had some of that too, I know that I got a special taste of times past that most folks my age missed out on.

But one thing I really miss about my childhood is my Grandma Betty. My grandpa died a few years before I was born, and that left Grandma with four teenagers and five grown children, plus a 72 acre farm to run. She was every bit the matriarch. Called the kids to dinner with a shotgun, and I watched her kill a rattlesnake with a shovel, but in fairness, the rattlesnake should NOT have decided to set up camp in front of the water pump. She could keep all 16 of her grandkids in line with one threatening wag of her spoon. And she cooked... boy did she cook. She did a lot of sewing and embroidery, too. She was the perfect Grandma. She was everything that people think of when they think of Grandmas; she made big farm breakfasts, and homemade dolls, she was kindly when she wanted to be, and stern when she needed to be, she was as often seen wearing an apron as not, she was spry and ornery, and sweet and wonderful, a little pudgy with short, curly, grey hair and orthopedic shoes. Really, picture a perfect Grandma... she was mine. When I saw her last year at the family reunion she called me "Char", my great-aunt, her sister-in-law. And she didn't know who Katherine was, though they'd met before. I miss the woman my grandma was before age and diabetes took her away from us. I wished out loud last year that Kit could have one of my Grandma Betty's special, treasured hand-made cloth dolls, with the lovely embroidered faces and amazing wardrobes. At Christmas, when I opened a package from my aunt containing all my grandma's doll patterns, I couldn't stop crying. What a treasure for me to have, what a family heirloom to have been given to me. But it was like announcing the end, too final. Hard for me to accept that it's time for somenoe else to take over, when my Grandma isn't gone yet.

Most of it besides exams when I was older, and probably school generally.
I lived with my parents in a nice house in a nice area, though the people weren't too friendly. The 60s produced some of the nicest designs in everything and I was around right in the middle of them. From the new houses to the psychedelic posters and music, it had everything the way I liked it, as well as TV programmes mainly with actors long gone like Steptoe and Son, the Carry On films, the original (and recently demised) Top of the Pops, so many things. And having my parents' friends round as well as my own always made a lively house.

Oh Melissa, I love your Grandma! She sounds so like mine!
Just what a Grandma should be.

Sounds like the perfect Grandma to me too Ren I only knew one set of Grandparents - Dad's parents had died before I was born - but I remember Mum's parents fairly well, even though they both died before I was 12. Nothing extra special about them, just lovely grandparents!

It was lucky I had the perfect Grandma, since I never got to have a Grandpa. My childhood, my life in general, and my strength as a woman were certainly enhanced by having known Grandma Betty! (Geesh, even her NAME is a perfect grandma name!)

I'm not saying that I miss being forced to go to Pentecostal church services three times a week, but lately I've been sort of nostalgic for those warm Sunday nights when my grandfather would walk home from church, singing, dressed in his black suit and hat. He was one of the few black men in town and he would just walk along singing and shouting out greetings to people. I was mortified, of course, but it was a much simpler time and sensibility. Sometimes Oakley Patterson, the other black guy at our church, would walk with him. Pamp was so light-skinned that when he was younger he'd tell people he was Portuguese so he could get into "No Negroes Allowed" places. Sometimes when friends' parents found out that my brother and I had "colored blood" they wouldn't let them play with us anymore. I never realized that Pamp was Black until the first time that happened to us.

I'm thinking along the same lines as agony and skunkee - the games we would play with no special equipment to speak of, just our imaginations, and they would last for hours. I can remember being outside in the summertime from the break of day until dark, with a small time-out from play for everyone to go home to eat dinner. When I think of the distance away from home that I was allowed to go at age 6 or 7, it makes me sad that I could barely let my own children out of my sight. Times have certainly changed, but I still tried to keep my children's imagination alive when they were small and encourage them to play "pretending" games like I did.
When I got a little older, the joy of summer was having as much time as I liked to read. I would devour books so quickly, bringing home stacks from the library weekly.
And I have to admit, just as exciting as the last day of school year was for me, there was always a special excitement on the first day in the fall.

gretas, most of have been saying 'the good old days', but from your post I realise that for some people the old days were not so good in some respects.