There is a news article on the main BFP site at the moment, entitled ‘children’s rooms buzzing with electricity’. It tells how children nowadays have so many electrical appliances in their rooms. Televisions, games consoles, even laptop computers. This got me thinking about my childhood. I was never allowed a television in my room, and quite frankly I never desired one.

From a very young age, I have adored reading. I read absolutely anything. I usually have multiple books on the go, scattered throughout the house at strategic locations. I am not someone who reads a book once and then gets rid of it. I read books over and over and over. I skim read, always have done, which means that every time I read a book, I find a passage that I scanned over before. It makes each reading as exciting as the first time. There are a couple of sets of books, David Eddings’ Belgariad and Mallorean, that I have read so many, many times. They are real comfort books for me. They are familiar, and they are safe, and I know I am going to enjoy reading them. When I was younger I used to read the dictionary, or the Bible. Just because I liked reading. If I am in the bath and I finish my book, I end up reading shampoo bottles, or toothpaste tubes. There is just something very satisfying and comforting about scanning words and processing what they say, whether it’s a work of fiction or the insert in a packet of paracetamol.

When I was a kid, I was lucky enough to spend a lot of time with my grandparents. When I was with either set, there was always something to do. At my dad’s parents, there were things in the shed; big old sofa cushions, a hula hoop and a baton. Plus my granddad grew runner beans and tomatoes, so we would always be checking on them to see how they were growing, whether they had gotten bigger from the last time we saw them, a few days ago. Sometimes my cousin would be there, so my sister, my cousin and I would play dancers, with Cousin Eris, being the oldest, having the rail at the top of the stairs for her barre, me having the stairs (possibly frowned on by Health and Safety nowadays), and my little sister, being the youngest, having the chest freezer. In our minds we would be prima ballerinas, with the wicked jealous next door neighbours (Anastasia and Drusella – because we did like our Disney films) always trying to thwart us.

At my mum’s parents, we had a wide variety of stuff to do. My grandparents were always happy to spend time with us; we played cards with my granddad, and board games like Ludo, Snakes and Ladders, and All Fall Down. We used to have picnics behind the sofa in the living room. My gran was a wonderful cook, and there were always fresh homemade cakes there. We used to help her make them. Sometimes we would be allowed to make ‘cakes’ for my dad and my granddad; gran and mum were always sensible enough never to eat them!! Everything went into those cakes; pepper, vinegar, mustard, flour, sugar, sultanas, coffee, the tea leaves from inside tea bags. We would solemnly cook them and present them in the evening when my parents got back from work to pick us up. There was always a Victoria sponge or some rock buns made by my gran as well though! To give my dad and granddad their due, they always took at least one bite of the Cakes of Doom, and always pronounced them delicious, while my sister and I sniggered at them not realising that we had made them as horrible as possible.

We also used to play a game called ‘Cook and Maid’, which was one of the best games ever, in my opinion. Gran and Grandad’s house would be the downstairs of a grand manor; Gran would be the cook, Grandad would be the butler/gardener, and my sister and I would be the maids. We would cook, help with the gardening, and help with the cleaning. Always in character, referring to ‘her ladyship and his lordship’ liking things done just so. My favourite part was the interviewing of the new maids, and I often used to beg my gran to fire me so that I could be re-interviewed.

When at home, my sister and I never relied on tv for entertainment. When we weren’t in the garden or playing board and card games with my parents, we would spend hours and hours upstairs playing ‘dressing up’ or ‘barbies.’ My poor parents used to be forever treading on Barbie’s shoes or hands, because when we played barbies, we took over the house!

I could continue, but I think I have rambled on enough as it is!! My point is that my childhood was not all that long ago, but the difference between my childhood surrounded by family always willing to spend time to play with my sister and I, or even just entertaining ourselves, compared to the childhoods described in the article mentioned, is astonishing. When did it become that commercial goods became more important to a child than spending time with their family, or being encouraged to use their imaginations to create a world from the safety of their bedroom? Am I an oddity in this day and age that my childhood was so filled with simple yet lasting entertainments?