Of Beaches, Giant Snow Balls, Sniggery Woods And Little Crosby

A Memory of Crosby.

I spent my infant years in Crossender Rd. In the winter we had hills nearby adjacent to the Southport to L'pool line. We used to roll little snow balls until they achieved a massive girth of a metre. Sometimes they would get out of control and smash into someone's fence or greenhouse (of course we kids were no where to be seen). My later misspent youth was engaging in the delights of Sniggery Woods, birds egg and butterfly collecting. And perhaps being chased by the local bull in a neaby field (quite on purpose of course). Then the odd mysterous trip to Little Crossby and the mistery of the stations of the cross and the walls of mystery of the Blundell family - a challenge to the climbing skills to many an adventurous spirit - to discover oak forest and amazing deer and pheasants abound.

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