Childhood In The Village!!

A Memory of Mollington.

I was devastated in 1964 when my mother told me we were to leave the village so that my mother could pursue her dream of owning her own small business elsewhere. It was a dreadful culture shock, one that has remained with me ever since. For now it is my dream to one day move back into the village I grew up in to retire.

I have wonderful memories of halcyon days in the village. We lived in a small cottage on Well Lane and my grandmother Nana Caine lived in another small cottage just a bit further on from us in Willow Cottage. My father's parents, my other grandparents, originally lived in School Cottage on the corner of Gypsy Lane opposite the original old village school where I attended.  Nana and Grandad Godwin had a small 'shippon' on the side of the cottage where he kept a few cows for milking and I believe he also worked as a wheelwright. Grandfather rented several fields off a lady in the village, I think her name was Mrs Nicholson, where he grazed his cows or cooows as he called them and kept his old horse that pulled his old cart.  He was, I was told, often seen out in all weathers out with his horse and cart pulling heavy tall steel milk churns up the narrow lanes to the village station where the grand steam trains would take them to Rock Ferry and then on to Cadbury's.

Times started changing a few years before I was born in 1956 and with the onward march of progress coming to Mollington, so came along the motor car, and so Grandad Godwin also became the village mechanic to the only five cars in the village, several belonging to the Fielden’s of Mollington Hall.  My Grandfather Godwin died before I was old enough to know him!  

I was told that after the war my two grandmas operated the only switchboard in the village, at the Post-Office, as then it was the only way anyone could get through to speak to anyone in the village. I can imagine them both sitting listening to half the conversations including all the local juicy village gossip (my interpretation only!!).

As a youngster I remember such halcyon days, when winters would be cold,  Christmas it would snow and summers were hot and hazy where the wood pigeon and cuckoo called out their songs!  I remember waking up to see wonderful patterns Jack Frost had left on my small cottage bedroom window, then quickly throwing on my clothes I would run down the stairs, opening the small door to the stairwell at the bottom with the stiff rusty latch and stepping out into the sitting room where a roaring coal fire would be lit, Mother in the kitchen preparing breakfast, before I would be taken by my aunt to the local village school.

Here I would be in the class for infants, the next door classroom was for Juniors. It was strict times. Miss Smith my teacher had a magnificent aim with the board rubber if I chatted too much, or even worse I would be made to stand in the corner or sit under her desk crossed-legged!  Oh how school days have changed!!

I remember getting in trouble if I left the garden without telling Mum, but I loved walking round to the farm just round the corner on Well Lane and jumping up to look inside the pig-sty to see the piglets or getting one of my cousins to hold me up so I could watch them longer, then running up the hill on Station Road to watch the huge steam trains hurtle under, blowing their toxic pungent smelling steam up over the road bridge. Or playing with my friend Denise on the platform at the village station as her father used to be the old Station Master, they lived in Station House. Great times!!

I had two aunts and uncles in the village. Auntie Marie Birchall and Uncle John lived on Grove Road, with two children, my cousins, John and Marie Birchall. Auntie Marie worked in the little school kitchen and served the school dinners, I looked forward to seeing her everyday. Then at play times in the summer we would play on the school field opposite, where I would stand at the hedge and shout over to my aunt n' uncle's to then be given copious amounts of yummy biscuits. My other aunt and uncle lived at the top of Well Lane, Bob and Thelma Whalley, with one daughter Lyn. I believe Nana Caine and the young girls, my mum and two aunts all came over to the village after being evacuated from Liverpool in wartime.  They all first lived together in a converted wooden railway van, with a wooden verandah and no amenities up Gypsy Lane.  I was told it was hard times but good times!

My memories always brighten my day when I think of them, yet they sound such a lifetime away. I expect it's just the way things are these days, everything is changing so fast and everyone is in such a rush. If only we could all take a step back and look to the times of old then maybe, just maybe, life and people would be a lot more kinder, appreciating that the simple things in life can bring so much more enjoyment...

Well I will take my leave ... My Goodness I sound so old .... But I still have another 13 years before I retire so hopefully that will give me enough time to reach my dreams!!!  

I hope and trust you enjoyed reading about my memories as much as I enjoyed writing about them....

Please get in touch if you can remember anything around the late 50's early 60's in the village... I would love to read about your memories also ....   

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