When I Was A Lad....

A Memory of Almondsbury.

Ahh.. What a rush of memories return to my mind as I ponder the view of the vale of Almondsbury laid out before me. I grew up in the lower village (then known as marshwell crescent). My father's family hailed from the deepest depths of Patchway common, where my Grandfather was the local Cobbler (always making ready the boots of the local gypsies as they prepared to make their yearly trek to Kent for the hop picking season, and paying my grandfather on their return from picking). I have wonderful memories of running, hiding, and enjoying family picnics on the tumps, and enjoying a glass of cool lemonade from the local pub (Swan on the hill), while my parents inbibed a glass of a more portly brew. Every weekend, we local lads would wind our way down to the marshes, to catch our share of elvers who were always there in abundance, living in the myriad of reens that inhabit that marsh area. I can truly say from the bottom of my heart, I was, and am blessed to be called an Almondsbury lad!