A dear friend wrote on her blog how she enjoyed the snow as a child, playing in the woods under a 'tunnel' of branches. Of course it took me back to my childhood and where I played. I grew up in what would now be called a 'slum area'.Tiny 2 up, 2 down houses, jammed against the one next door, and the one next to that. We lived in numbered Rows or alleys. In those days you knew all your neighbours who would always help out in any difficulty and you never locked doors. There were no trees or green grass.
The town where I lived was bombed badly in WW11 and we were lucky we had no direct hits, only bomb blast damage. The area where I lived was surrounded with bombed out houses, which was where we played . Some were completely flat so we used the bricks to make our own little 'rooms' in their tiny back yards, complete with brick chairs, and a brick table covered with a piece of rag for a table cloth and holding an empty meat paste jar with a few weeds for decoration.
I remember clearly sifting through bomb rubble with my friends and finding maybe books, photographs or even a powder puff belonging to some poor bombed out family who may even have been killed.
We were not allowed on the beach which had been mined but my little best friend Marlene found a hole in the barbed wire and wondered onto the beach. All they found of her was a shoe...........
A lifetime ago and I am thankful always for having survived to have my own dear family and live in a better world. Oh that everybody could say the same.........
I've rambled on too much.....Hugs