Here a copper, there a bob.
In immediate post war Britain there was not much of anything to be had in the stores. We still had rationing, and luxuries were out of the question.
In common with most of the families in our neighborhood, my parents had to scrimp and save. Every penny counted, and at one time there were so few pennies that my parents almost lost the “three up, three down” terraced (row) house which they were buying.
But there were many ways in which the budget could be stretched.
We used Brooke Bond “Dividend” Tea. On the side of each quarter pound packet of loose tea, there was a little adhesive stamp, just like a postage stamp. Brooke Bond provided cards for these stamps, and when one was filled with fifty stamps, off it would go in the mail, and we would await the five bob postal order from the Tea Company.
Similarly, Mum bought “Royal Diadem” flour. Each one pound bag contained a coupon, and when Mum had saved 50, (or was it 100) coupons, my twin sister and/or I would be sent off by ‘bus to the “Royal Diadem” office on Stapleton Road. There are dusty coupons would be carefully counted, by a careful clerk, and unless Mum had miscounted, we’d be handed a crisp ten shilling note.
We’d receive “hand me down” clothes from neighbours, sometimes left anonymously at the front door. Until 1950 our family consisted of three daughters and one son (me), so these were mostly clothes for girls.
My “best friend” was Jeffery Davies - he was a year younger than I, but much huskier. His Mum handed over a green Macintosh which he had outgrown, for my use. I wore it to school one rainy day, and was teased so much for having a “hand me down” mac’, that I refused to wear it again.
Gas and electricity meters, inside the front hall, were coin operated, on a pay as you go system. (This was common throughout the U.K.) My memory here is a bit hazy, but I seem to remember that the gas meters took “coppers” and the electricity meters needed shillings.
The meters were always set ahead so that householders in fact paid in advance for a little less gas and electricity than they’d actually consumed.
Once a quarter or so, the “gas man” or the “electricity man” would come to the house, check and empty the meter, and reconcile the coins with the actual amount we had used.
Then, they would issue a “rebate” - the amount we had overpaid.
When times were hard, Mum might say “perhaps the gas man will come today”, knowing that if he did there would be a few extra coppers to spend.
(Incidentally, those penny coins were called “coppers” as they had been made from copper between 1787 and 1860. Before that they’d been made from silver, and after that they were minted from bronze).
Worn out clothing would be saved, and every now and then Mum would separate them into bags of cotton and wool material, and one or other of the children would take the # 83 ‘bus to Old Market Street, and then wander over to Rose’s scrap yard. We reckoned that Rose’s paid better than the rag and bone man, besides which, one of the Rose clan was rumored to be a member of the Plymouth Brethren, which automatically made their scrap yard “a very good thing”.
All the grocers sold biscuits from tins, with glass lids. Inevitably some would get broken, and would be set aside until the grocer could fill an empty tin. These would be sold at a reduced price, and we’d be sent to the shop to ask “do you have any broken biscuits”.
On Saturdays after 5:00 p.m. we’d go down to Witt’s Bakery by Lawrence Hill Railway Station, for after that hour they’d sell cakes and pastries at a reduced price. The manager of that shop, Miss Jessie Joyce, was also Plymouth Brethren, so here was another “good thing”.
( I digress for a moment. Plymouth Brethren were fervent expositors of “dispensationalism” , quite convinced that the second coming of Jesus was imminent.
If we sang “Rock of Ages”, when we got to the line “when mine eyelids close in death”, dear Jessie Joyce would sing in a loud and emphatic way “should mine eyelids close in death”. After all Jesus might well return before she or her sister Mary died. He didn’t.)
And, last of all for today, there was “pinky fruit”. Pinky fruit is apples, pears, bananas, oranges etc which had just begun to turn bad. Off we’d go to the greengrocer to see if she or he had any pinky fruit - sold of course at a lower price. Mum would carefully cut away the bad bits, and assure us that we were getting the very best. In a way she was right - for we were being fed by her love.
I hate poverty.
In common with most of the families in our neighborhood, my parents had to scrimp and save. Every penny counted, and at one time there were so few pennies that my parents almost lost the “three up, three down” terraced (row) house which they were buying.
But there were many ways in which the budget could be stretched.
We used Brooke Bond “Dividend” Tea. On the side of each quarter pound packet of loose tea, there was a little adhesive stamp, just like a postage stamp. Brooke Bond provided cards for these stamps, and when one was filled with fifty stamps, off it would go in the mail, and we would await the five bob postal order from the Tea Company.
Similarly, Mum bought “Royal Diadem” flour. Each one pound bag contained a coupon, and when Mum had saved 50, (or was it 100) coupons, my twin sister and/or I would be sent off by ‘bus to the “Royal Diadem” office on Stapleton Road. There are dusty coupons would be carefully counted, by a careful clerk, and unless Mum had miscounted, we’d be handed a crisp ten shilling note.
We’d receive “hand me down” clothes from neighbours, sometimes left anonymously at the front door. Until 1950 our family consisted of three daughters and one son (me), so these were mostly clothes for girls.
My “best friend” was Jeffery Davies - he was a year younger than I, but much huskier. His Mum handed over a green Macintosh which he had outgrown, for my use. I wore it to school one rainy day, and was teased so much for having a “hand me down” mac’, that I refused to wear it again.
Gas and electricity meters, inside the front hall, were coin operated, on a pay as you go system. (This was common throughout the U.K.) My memory here is a bit hazy, but I seem to remember that the gas meters took “coppers” and the electricity meters needed shillings.
The meters were always set ahead so that householders in fact paid in advance for a little less gas and electricity than they’d actually consumed.
Once a quarter or so, the “gas man” or the “electricity man” would come to the house, check and empty the meter, and reconcile the coins with the actual amount we had used.
Then, they would issue a “rebate” - the amount we had overpaid.
When times were hard, Mum might say “perhaps the gas man will come today”, knowing that if he did there would be a few extra coppers to spend.
(Incidentally, those penny coins were called “coppers” as they had been made from copper between 1787 and 1860. Before that they’d been made from silver, and after that they were minted from bronze).
Worn out clothing would be saved, and every now and then Mum would separate them into bags of cotton and wool material, and one or other of the children would take the # 83 ‘bus to Old Market Street, and then wander over to Rose’s scrap yard. We reckoned that Rose’s paid better than the rag and bone man, besides which, one of the Rose clan was rumored to be a member of the Plymouth Brethren, which automatically made their scrap yard “a very good thing”.
All the grocers sold biscuits from tins, with glass lids. Inevitably some would get broken, and would be set aside until the grocer could fill an empty tin. These would be sold at a reduced price, and we’d be sent to the shop to ask “do you have any broken biscuits”.
On Saturdays after 5:00 p.m. we’d go down to Witt’s Bakery by Lawrence Hill Railway Station, for after that hour they’d sell cakes and pastries at a reduced price. The manager of that shop, Miss Jessie Joyce, was also Plymouth Brethren, so here was another “good thing”.
( I digress for a moment. Plymouth Brethren were fervent expositors of “dispensationalism” , quite convinced that the second coming of Jesus was imminent.
If we sang “Rock of Ages”, when we got to the line “when mine eyelids close in death”, dear Jessie Joyce would sing in a loud and emphatic way “should mine eyelids close in death”. After all Jesus might well return before she or her sister Mary died. He didn’t.)
And, last of all for today, there was “pinky fruit”. Pinky fruit is apples, pears, bananas, oranges etc which had just begun to turn bad. Off we’d go to the greengrocer to see if she or he had any pinky fruit - sold of course at a lower price. Mum would carefully cut away the bad bits, and assure us that we were getting the very best. In a way she was right - for we were being fed by her love.
I hate poverty.
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