when men was iron and ships was wood...

 ...or something. It's a phrase my late father in law used—sort of. I may have it wrong. But basically he used it for as he said 'when I were a lad'. I.E a long time ago.

(Source: Freepik on pinterest)

It came to mind, because recently, on holiday, I've been reading some old favourites, which were all written well over half a century ago. As in when I was a child. 

Miss Read, (about village life) Doreen Tovey (Siamese cats), Lillian Beckwith  a middle-aged lady moving to Skye), James Heriot, (Vet in Yorkshire), Nicholas Rhea (Policeman in Yorkshire,) and so on.

Apart from loving the memories some of these stories bring back, it's fascinating to read just how life was then. Especially when you visit the areas written about and think, oh I bet that's where so and so lived. Or whatever.

It's a great way to learn about history that's not centuries ago. About people and places. Lives and living conditions. Employment and education.

I'm well over my half century. I can remember some of the things I'm reading about. I have very vague memories of Keith, the butcher who came around in his little white (I think) van. When he opened the back doors there was a set of scales and some bits of meat. As meat rationing didn't end until 1954, he was the man you gave your coupons to and you got what he had. I don't remember any of that, but my mum told me all about it.

There was also the bread van, Mr Bradshaw's mobile shop and of course the milkman and his deliveries. Which were left on the doorstep and if the sun was out, you better be at home so you didn't have curdled milk.

How things have changed.

But it's good to read about those days of over seventy years ago, from the horses mouth so to speak. Speaking of horses, the rag and bone man, Mr Smith, used to come round with his horse and cart, and beg a drop of milk and hot water for his tea can.

I've had a book fest over the last few weeks. As my lovely husband says, thank goodness for eReaders. 

Because I always used to take at least one book for each day of my holiday. Which meant a lot of my clothes had to go in his suitcase and he was sure, one day, his case would be opened and a pile of ladies undies be pulled out.

Thankfully it never happened. Now I pack my undies in my own suitcase. 

Happy reading,

love, Raven xxx