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The bright sunny weather that we have at the moment reminded me of one of the
things that we did was to lay on our backs and watch the white fluffy clouds pass overhead and imagine what the different shapes looked like, from animals to buildings or fantasy landscapes. One of the best
places was facing west lying on the platform that was near the Station buildings (now a dwelling).
This occupation was even more spectacular as sun set was approached due to the different shades of colour that were produced as the sun got lower in the sky.
The Haven and its surrounding area as stated
previously was used as a play area by us as we grew up. I remember the older lads building `dens` in what was left of the buildings on the right hand side of it. They had even fashioned a stove from old oil
drums with a chimney stack that stuck out at the height of the base of the flood bank for the river so that they could have a fire in the den. In the many clumps of bushes on the other side just off from where the
railway had run down to the railway dock, they set to and made small stooks of dry grass and fastened them to the bushes and made a `den` that was not easily seen as it blended in with the back ground looking
similar to the houses that is seen and lived in today in the African bush.
High Noon!
One day after spending time down at the river, I and one of my brothers and at
least one other set out to walk along the river bank eastwards in the direction of South Ferriby. Our mistake was that none of us had a watch so we did not know the time, but who cared we were young lads having fun
and the sun was high in the sky. From the flood bank to foreshore we walked on having fun and without a care in the world we got further away from Winteringham. The bank ran out as it joined the road where the river
and road run parallel so we turned for home and walked along the road with the sun still as we thought looking quite high, so as we approached Silver Street we turned off the road and headed down the track and then
across the fields to get back onto Low Burgage.
By this time the sun was starting to get somewhat lower but was as I thought still high enough for us to be home in time for tea. Oh boy was I wrong!
We were late! Parents were none to pleased as we should have been home three or more hours before to be in for our normal times to be in for the day.
I believe Dad had been down to the Haven looking for us but
failing to find us returned home. If I remember a neigbour had passed us on the road and had told my parents. I don't remember what happened but I would say at a guess a drink and sandwich would have been given and
then sent to bed and then the following day a more detailed account of our day would have been told and then GROUNDED for at least that day if not longer. We’d have had to help around the house more than
likely having to do jobs we did not like. (it hurt more when friends called to see if you were going out to play or if you could go out with them and their Mum and Dad and you missed out ).
That really hurt more than any thing physical.
Norman’s Kite
Kite flying was all the rage at one time with many of the lads of the village. The
field across the road from our house was used (this was also used by the Fair when it came to the village). for this activity I don't know if any permission had been given for us to use it or not. The field belonged
to a farmer named Clarke and was grass with a ridge running roughly north to south across it that would have been about the middle of it this part saw many a game of Cowboys and Indians or war games with one side
defending the ridge the other attacking it.
The kites were mostly home made from brown or news paper fastened to a frame normally in the shape of a cross. Some worked some did not but we all had fun. One kite
that really stood out was made by a lad called Norman who lived just up the road from us. He and his mate flew a smallish kite in size until it came to the tail which must have been at least twelve feet in length
but had a small bag attached into which weight was added or taken away somehow his kite was perfectly balanced and flew like a bird the only thing that was wrong it was that ball after ball of string was tied onto
the line some was begged from other kite flyers whose may have crashed and disintegrated and only fit for the bin to someone making a quick trip up to Potts Shop for more balls all this string meant that the kite
went higher and looked smaller and smaller. Sometimes the bag on the tail looked larger than the kite its self. Sometimes this kite was the only one flying with the rest of us lads helping out if needed.
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