Chapter 12

There were no supermarkets that time of day,
Goods now relatively cheaper dare I say.
Shops were mainly owner run and so discreet.
No awful signs, glaring down the street!

The biggest of places we would shop;
Still going today, the local co-op.
Mum would give me her order, and me there send;
In those days you got quite a good dividend.

The counters seemed quite high to me;
Over the top I could hardly see.
Dry goods, peas, sugar and others too.
Measured and scooped into bags of blue.

Rationing, if any, cheese a tiny slice.
Not enough to feed a pair of mice.
Big green blocks of washing soap;
"Any bacon dear?" Not a hope!

The Marge 'made' by the government
Every day made to feel like Lent.
If any butter, got only little pats,
Made into shape with wooden bats.

Our side of the counter for all to see,
Dog food in Hessian's sacks, that suited me.
I'd nick some to eat walking home to tea.

Payment, pink slip in a brass thing did fling
By overhead steel lines worked by a spring.
The money sped to a central station,
Same routine throughout the nation.

But mum would say before you let any monies go.
For dividend quote number 289280.

On the same road about twenty owner run shops.
You could cover them all with a skip and hops.
A butcher, rationing, not much there;
A shop alongside where they'd cut your hair.

A post office where you would buy your stamp,
Most things were there, not far to tramp.
A chemist, cobbler, a shop for fish 'n chips;
We kids would ask for the batter crunchy bits.

Small hardware store, nails and a hammer.
If you hit your thumb, just watch your grammar.
A bakers shop, green grocers selling veg like peas;
Not one sign of oranges, bananas if you please.

Diagonally across from the co-op there was a hall
Where the Salvation Army to their god did call.
Those were the ladies in funny bonnets you could see,
Walking in and out collecting in the local hostilery.

If perchance you saw people in a queue,
I knew exactly what I had to do.
Home I would run, hopefully well in time,
Mum would order me back to stand in line.

If I thought stuff on offer was no good,
Even if in line, for over an hour I stood.
Young I might be but I had to use my wits,
Step out of line, return mum's threepenny bits.