(illustrations: A vintage Christmas candleholder

Joan and I felt rather special, having been born on exactly the same day, Christmas Eve, with two years between us. People would do a double take at such ‘miraculous’ births, saying:

“What? You were both born on the same day? Only two years apart? That’s amazing?”

It was indeed amazing, and we sensed it keenly!

Mam dressed us the same, like twins, for a good many years. 

We even had a song played for us by Uncle Mac one year at Christmas, on ‘ Children’s Favourites’ a Saturday radio programme, which was ‘We will rock you, (the ‘Christmas carol’ that is, not the modern version by Queen!)

We adored that programme, which opened with the words, “Hello children everywhere!” So many wonderful songs were played each week, such as Sparky with his magic piano; The Runaway Train; Davy Crockett, The Railroad runs through the Middle of the House; The Laughing Policeman, Nelly the Elephant; and copious songs by Pinky and Perky. I wonder which ones were your particular favourites if you too were a child in the fifties?

Christmas was doubly exciting for us, because we would open birthday presents one day, and Christmas presents the next. Two whole days of pleasure, when everyone else had only one, but then there would be no presents at all for a whole year after that!

When I was very young, I would watch my sister open one of her presents first, then I would select and open the very same wrapped up version, from my pile of gifts. (We were always given identical presents.) So mine were no surprise at all; they were all the same as hers. So why did I not have the common sense then to choose one of a different size or shape, so I could have had surprises too?

She was even the first to discover our new bikes, hidden away one year in the kitchen, by Santa Claus. We all hurried outside immediately to ride them around the field. Joan’s bike was a perfect fit, and off she went, like a bullet out of a gun; whereas mine had to have blocks fitted first, as my legs were too short to reach my pedals, so I had to wait a while, and watch Joan.

Real candles in metal holders were attached to our little Christmas tree each year; dad carefully lit them all at once, and we both held our breath, as it was not only a magic experience, it was yet another dodgy exercise, like getting the fire going! The candles were only lit for a couple of minutes of course, but I have a vivid memory of standing there, wide-eyed in wonder, singing, ‘Silent Night’. The flames were then ceremoniously blown out and the main lights were put on again.

I still love it, even now, when we light our tree up for the very first time each year with electric lights, and my mind goes back to those beautiful silent lighting ceremonies!

O happy days! What a blessed atmosphere, what magical moments.

New Year was also very special as this was when we all visited the home of Uncle Bob, my mam’s brother. His wife Auntie Cathie always made very large mince pies for us with mushy peas. Then after our meal, the fun began.

Uncle Bob, who had been a PT instructor in the army during World War Two, would perform a special handstand for us, and lower himself down onto a box of matches, then pick them up with his teeth, before pushing himself steadily up into the air again! Then we would all play silly games.

One year it was ‘Can you see Lord Nelson?’ Each person, one at a time, was invited into a darkened lounge, and we were told to look into the mirror on the wall, to see if we could see the ghost of Lord Nelson, who was blind in one eye, but first we too had to be 'one-eyed' and hold the whistle top of a kettle over each eye. Well, what we didn’t know was that the rim of the whistle had been covered in soot, and each of us had no idea that we would end up with two black round circles round our eyes! Kung Fu Panda springs to my mind as I recall this.

We also would invent and rehearse a play, with our cousins, Kathleen and Brian, and perform it in the bay window, which had two curtains we could draw aside, as our play started. We all sang songs too, many of them Scottish, as Auntie Cathie was from Troon.

“You tak the high road and I’ll tak the low road,

an’ I’ll be in Scotland afore ye!

An’ me and my true love will never meet again,

on the bonny, bonny banks O’ Loch Lomond.”

My Aunty Cathie, even though she had lived all her life in Wallsend from being married, never lost her beautiful Scottish accent.

You know there’s nothing nicer than a real meeting of the clans!

Joan and I both had our tonsils out, on the very same day, at Walkergate hospital. How was it that we did everything together? Did we both suffer from tonsillitis at the same time, or was it just convenient to operate on us at the same time with us being sisters? It remains a mystery! But here in this place was another moment of awe and wonder!

Fairies!

I remember clearly a black rubber mask descending onto my nose and mouth, at the beginning of my operation; and a doctor saying to me,

“Can you see the fairies inside the mask?”

“No!” I replied truthfully.

“You’re not looking hard enough, surely can you see them now?”

“Yes I can see them,” I said the second time, not wanting to disagree with him, as he seemed so certain that they were in there somewhere! Who was I to disagree with a doctor?

“What colour are they?” To keep him happy, I said,

“Red, blue, pink, yell . . .”

Joan, the no nonsense child, would no doubt have told him straight, that he was deluded!

I remember breakfast in that hospital, the next day.

I couldn't face the fried egg in front of me, as my throat was sore, and the matron declared that I could not leave the table until ithe egg had been eaten. I sat weeping after everyone else had left the table, but Joan was there, keeping watch over me, as she often did. That’s when a young nurse came over and began eating it for me, cautiously, piece by piece, once the matron left the ward.

I still remember that one small act of kindness!

Then an aunty sent in two huge fragrant roses for each of us, from her rose garden, for our bedside lockers. My rose was yellow, Joan’s was a deep red. But as I leaned over to smell mine, I saw something move inside it! A forky tail crawled out! (an earwig) What if that had gone up my nose? I hate them now, along with the spiders.

I was glad to get home.

Then, wonder of wonders, our first ‘brand new’ ‘black and white’ TV arrived. The excitement in our home was palpable! I must have been only five years old when it arrived. I suspect my dad had rented this TV in order to watch the 1955 Newcastle United Cup final. Many of the shopkeepers from our street, shut up shop and came in, to watch the match in our home. What a roar they all made with each foul, or goal. Newcastle won 3-1. Good old Jackie Milburn, my dad’s favourite footballer.

But I‘ll never forget the very first programme we saw, when it was first switched on. It was Popeye the Sailor Man, Woo Woo!

We were so excited! Can you remember your first ever programme?

How we loved Popeye. Whenever he was in dire trouble, he would reach out for his spinach, which would give strength to those enormous muscles of his, in order to defeat his arch rival, Bluto, who was twice his size and very cruel and sly. Popeye regularly rescued Olive Oyl, his girlfriend, when she fell into Bluto’s clutches, but why did artists in those days give their heroes such huge chins? Desperate Dan had one as well as Popeye!

There were so many wonderful children’s programmes to watch then, (we were easily pleased!):- the Woodentops, The Flowerpot Men, Muffin the Mule, Andy Pandy, Billy Bunter, Captain Pugwash, Pinky and Perky, Whirly Birds, the Lone Ranger.

Eventually ‘Champion the Wonder Horse’ became my favourite programme. Champion would race on at the start f each episode, whinnying and rearing, and then race at top speed to stand alongside his young master Ricky, and his dog Rebel.

Indeed, in the school playground, I actually became Champion! I could neigh and stamp my hooves just like him, if not better. I can’t quite remember who played that game with me? I was most likely in my own little world, with other children watching this crazy girl, galloping around all over the yard, tossing her mane?

I had imaginary horses everywhere then; not only on one arm of our big brown leather chair, but also on the banister in the passage. Then, when I came home each night from school, I would whistle just like Ricky used to do, and a pure white stallion, would hear me and come thundering to meet me from across the field, and I would leap up high onto its bare back, and race home, slapping my thigh all the way, yelling ‘Yee- hah!

Television can really influence a child’s life, but having said this, I never once had any desire to eat spinach.

Later, when the series ‘Rawhide’ became popular, with Clint Eastwood as Rowdy Yeats, it was also a firm favourite of mine, he was so young and handsome, and I also loved singing its theme song;

Keep rollin', rollin', rollin'

Though the streams are swollen

Keep them dawgies rollin', Rawhide YAH!

Through rain and wind and weather

Hell bent for leather etc. . . .

and its chorus:-

Move 'em on, head 'em up

Head 'em up, move 'em on

Move 'em on, head 'em up,

Rawhide. Yeah!

Cut 'em out, ride 'em in

Ride 'em in, cut 'em out

Cut 'em out, ride 'em in,

Rawhide.

It was just as catchy as the advert for Pepsodent toothpaste:

'You’ll wonder where the yellow went . . .'

Ask anyone who lived at the time, and they will all sing back to you:

'when you brush your teeth with Pepsodent!'