The streets of my early years Oatlands provided the younger inhabitants with many ways of exercising the imagination.

The wire that hung from the backcourt telephone poles, the end tied round a stick, made an excellent Tarzan swing. Indeed the test of nerves came from just how far out you were willing to swing and the skill in jumping at the right time to land on the roof of your chosen ‘dike’ (bin area).

I was never one for being adventurous where ‘jumps’ were concerned, I was more of a ‘dreep dooner’ and could quite easily manage the short drop from the first-up landing windae. Playing ‘shoaps’ out in the backcourts was always fun. There, the traditional exchange currency was that of broken glass and stones for money.

Many a time I remember when anyone dropped a ‘swedger’ (sweet) on the ground, regardless of where it landed, the chant of ‘devil licked it  – God blessed it!’ automatically made it edible again.

Many a child’s playtime was spent constructing crossbows that used clothspegs for ammo. A simple wooden cross set up with elastic stretching from two slightly bent nails battered into the wood using a makeshift ‘halfbrick’ hammer.

Empty houses were targetted for the supply of doors that were used for building multi-levelled ‘dens’, the height could get quite dangerous but exciting none the less. Some were even carpetted with remnants salvaged from the same house, makes me feel ‘a’ itchy’ just thinking about it!

The ‘Richy’ (Richmond Park) was always a favourite haunt for many of us. The swing park, with what seemed to me then the highest chute in the world, was a great attraction. But I suffered many a skint knee from falls on the way down. Once it was attended to, I’d go for a quick visit to the nearby toilets where the water came in paper coned cups, and unfortunately for those who couldnae wait to go hame…the luxury of San Izal toilet paper….