Kiddy Times And Shuffle

A Memory of Kidderminster.

Seemed like everybody knew everybody in the town in the 1950s and a trip to town with grandma was an obstacle course of gossiping delays riddled with 'not for the ears of children' innuendo...Yellow bereted... swashbuckling- hat pinned Grandma-Giles lookalikes with rough, front step scrubbing, gas-tub wash-board raking, and "aint he grown" hair ruffling hands. Women in their Whitsun best; all powdered and rouged like understated clowns, with their breathless bus-stop beleaguered ferreting..."where's me purse?" all heading for the shops... with not enough money... but just enough... to have a 'half of Guinness' together in Harvey's wine bar... whilst us kids stood outside on tip-toes feeling the cool Victorian tiles through our mis-buttoned shirts as we peered in to pick ' out our guardians through steamed up windows. God save a child from their gossiping outside Macfisheries...especially in Summer...a kid can only hold his breath for so long.