As in so many other places the Church organ was run on air pressure, which was produced by two boys pumping a handle up and down in the vestry.  A piece of wood on the end of a length of string moved up and down between two painted marks on the wall.  We were not supposed to let the wood, or mouse, as we called it, rise above the top mark or fall below the bottom mark, as with too little pressure, the organ would not work and with too much, it would probably blow the organist's hat off.  In the middle of a service when the organist was playing her heart out, one of us stood as lookout whilst the other allowed the air pressure to drop to zero, which caused the organ to emit a low pitched groaning sound.  The vicar would come rushing round the back, by which time we had rapidly pumped up the pressure back to normal and we smiled at him with innocent, angelic looks on our faces.

We lived in a house which had no electricity, no water, no sink, a solid outside toilet and no stairs up to the bedroom, just a ladder.  At the top of the ladder was a trap door in the bedroom floor.  When we went through it, we would lower it down so that we didn’t fall through it.  We had to fetch our water from a pump in a bucket.  In the winter, we would have to clean the snow off the lavatory seat before we could use it.  The lavatory roof leaked like a sieve.  We would use newspaper, as toilet roll was unheard of.  If the council cart, which we called the "Dilly cart," into which the contents of the toilet pan were emptied, could not reach us because of snow etc, my father would dig a hole in the garden and empty the toilet pan into it.

To stick the wallpaper on the wall my mother used what she called Labdab, which was a mixture of flour and water and it did the job perfectly.  She, with other women, often accompanied by children, went "sticking" with an old pram.  They looked for sticks and wood in hedges and woods for burning on the fire.

To warm the bed in winter my mother took the shelves from the oven, (which was part of the fireplace and always hot), wrapped them in an old blanket and put them in the bed.
Lighting was by paraffin lamp and not very bright until we became very modern and bought a storm lantern. A very small paraffin lamp, known as a "kelly," was used to light the bedrooms.  Sometimes a short fat candle, known as a night light, was placed in a saucer of water and used to light the bedrooms. We later became even more modern and owned a primus stove, which was a single ringed, hot, high-speed cooker, powered by paraffin but warmed up and started initially with methylated spirit.  Even after all that trouble, it was a great asset in the kitchen.

We would bath once a week in a wooden tub, which was filled (partly filled), with hot water from the boiler in the fireplace. After washing our hair, we would not be allowed outside again that day as it was thought we would catch pneumonia.  When I joined the RAF and pressed a switch and a light came on, and turned a tap, and water came out of it, I thought I was in heaven.  I could have a hot shower or bath every night.  Service life was supposed to be tough, but for me it was pure luxury.

When people point to an old-fashioned country cottage and say they would like to live in such a place, I think you can keep your country cottages, I far prefer my modern, double-glazed, centrally heated, all UPVC house.

When a woman had her hair permed, which only the more affluent could afford to do, she would not wash her hair for up to six months, as it was thought that it would wash the perm out.  I was shocked and upset when I first met people from foreign countries who claimed that the British were the dirtiest people in the world.  Australians and many others believe that it is still true even today.  In fact, Australians think that instead of having a shower, we simply have a quick squirt of a deodorant under the armpits.  They refer to this as a "Pommie Shower."  The most upsetting thing is that I think they are right, although the French are reputed to give us a good run for our money.

All the women did their weekly washing on a Monday.  A fire was lit under a big open topped cauldron called a "copper." The hot water from it was put into a round wooden or zinc tub, the clothes added, and they were pushed up and down with an inverted cup shaped device on the end of a wooden handle, like a sweeping brush handle.  It was about the size of a dinner plate and called a "posher."  A "mangle" or "wringer" squeezed the water out of the washing. A handle turned the two heavy wooden rollers, which squeezed the washing.  Washday must have been hell on earth for the women but because everyone was the same, no one complained.

Two sorts of people knocked on our doors then and caused everyone to feel uneasy.  One sort were tramps, who simply asked for food, but as all the men were at work and all the women stayed at home, their unease was understandable.  The other sort were simply known as Indians, but as they always wore turbans, they were obviously Sikhs, who sold silk products, which they carried, in a large suitcase.  [Continued]