I remember going to the 'steamie' with my mum when I was 7 years of age and it was a weekly thing of going there and doing all the washing, wrote Meg (Margaret) Boyle, who was born at Gallowgate, Glasgow in 1933.

I loved the smell of the place, with the soap and the heat, then bringing all the washing home and ironing it. The smell was heaven. I have never been able to get that smell, except when I boil the whites, which I still do, and it certainly takes me back.

Also recall going to the bing in the dead of night with my dad and an old pram to pick out the droppings of coal lying on the railway line. Everyone did it, but it was get it, fill the pram and run; and no talking as there were always guards around. But I think half the time they turned a blind eye anyway.

A 'bing' was where they used to dump the excess coal from the railways; the bing was so called as just another word for the 'pile'... a large pile. We had to go late at night, as it was illegal, in other words we were stealing the coal. Everyone only took what they needed for their fires, as it was always in winter and the families then were usually big families, and it was a bit of a struggle for the parents to feed and keep them warm.

Happier times were when my dad made us a sledge and we went to the park and slid down in the snow. What fun we had!

I think a lot of people will agree, that we didn't have much, but we enjoyed what we did have, and made the most of it. I wouldn't change my memories for anything.

All the kids in the street where we lived, Pettigrew Street, used to play in the road at peever, beds, kick the can and leevio. It was great in the summer when it didn't get dark till really late, and we played ropes and the mothers joined in with that one.

We had lots of fun, although we didn't have much, sometimes it was hard, but we accepted it as we never knew any better, and I think it gave us a bit of character-building as we used our imagination a lot to make up our own enjoyment.

Sometimes we would dress up and hold concerts in the backyard: we charged a halfpenny; and raided the house for any old curtains or other things we could use to be our characters. My favourite was Carmen Miranda, (don't know if you remember her), she was a Brazilian actress, she had fruit piled high upon her head, sometimes about two feet high, (that's true), and big high heels, she was so tiny, and she would dance as well as sing.

In that time false fruit was a thing everyone had in a dish on the table, so that got borrowed and stuck up on the head, the big platform shoes as well, then we went out and strutted our stuff, we thought we were gorgeous.... and it was so much fun.

The money we collected took most of us to the pictures, to see a favourite movie, (probably one with Carmen Miranda)...

I went to St Mark's School in Shettleston. I loved school, the teachers were strict, but that was a way of life then too, and we seemed to learn more. I had my favourite teachers, as well as not so favourite ones; I loved history, geography and gym...

We had a dinner school near the school.. I can still taste the mince and potatoes, and the custard...

I left school in 1948 and went to work in a dairy in Shettleston Road.
Then I went into Glasgow in Ingram street and started work as a machinist, where I stayed till I finished my apprenticeship.

And then I worked as a clippie on the buses, (Parkhead depot) and the trams Dennistoun depot. I was there till I got married.

During the war my family (my brothers, my mum and me) were evacuated to Stirling till after the war. One of my brothers was born there. I enjoyed it very much, as when we were in Glasgow we had to carry our gas masks everywhere, as we never knew when there was going to be an air raid.

When it did come it was a rush to get to the Anderson shelter that had been built in the backyards for the families. They were quite cosy, the families up the Close all shared, so they had put in: blankets, spare food, what could be spared as it was rationed too, and spare candles.

All of us kids would be put into the beds and the adults would sit around talking and singing, till the all-clear sounded. So going to Stirling was like heaven.

Coming to Australia I have lost touch with my childhood friends. It would be lovely if, at sometime, some of them went into memories and saw this and got in touch. I hope so.

Meg (Margaret) Boyle, Victoria, Australia, 2002