I’ve finally fallen over for the first time, due to crappy pavements and being tired after walking for over an hour. This was expected from the day I was diagnosed, now it’s happened I just have to be more careful.
From now on I have to make sure that I don’t walk for too long, sitting down, resting and using transport is much more useful especially around the ‘Big City’. Luckily I didn’t really hurt myself that much, my right side is still strong and that helped when I fell onto the pavement. Just now a little bit aching in my left side. I also have a few scratches on my left fingers, some red ones on my left knee and a little bit of stone in my right hand. Funnily enough even though I was snotty and crying when I got to sit down a smile came to my face when I rolled up my jeans and looked at my knee.
My mind went back to when I was a youngster, seeing the red marks reminded me of falling over and hurting myself when I was a boy, in those days I’m sure I just bounced back up. The amount of times that I fell over in my junior years must have been extremely high, this also reminds me of some events in my early life.
I can recall walking down Moss Lane just around the corner from our house in Southport. It probably took me about thirty minutes to reach a little gathering between two houses. This was a route to the field behind the houses, it was as wide as a garden though and looking back at it now it was obviously a prime lot for a building.
The reason I went there on a regular basis was because of a tree, a huge, great horse chesnut. As you think when you’re young I thought I was the only one who knew about it, I never saw anybody else there, obviously though other people knew about it. In the autumn the conkers were ready fo fall, some also fell onto the floor due to the windy weather and storms. I also used to throw sticks and anything else I could find up at the tree to try and knock the conkers down. Now I know I shouldn’t have done that, you break the branches and damage the tree, we all do that when we are boys though, part of our young life.
At my primary school and even in the early stages of my secondary school we always had conker competitions. I dried them out and used my dad’s woodwork bradawl tool to put a hole in them to put the string through with a knot at the bottom. Sometimes I even used vinegar to try and make them hard. Sometimes they were too hard though and they shattered and fell apart when they were smashed by my other friends conkers.
I always used to walk around the village to meet my friends, one called Richard Wigmore, I can recall in a cul-de-sac road. I don’t remember the name of it though, it was quite close to my primary school so it was easy to walk to. These days were always good, his and my other friends mums were always happy to see me and I usually stayed for tea. These things when you are young are important to help your life and bring you up.
Other short memories include being in the playground at my primary school, I nearly had my thumb broken when Richard Greer kicked my hand. This was due to us playing cricket with our legs, we used a drain pipe on the wall as the wicket and holey plastic balls covered in coloured tape, round and round again to make it hard. We had to kick the ball when it was bowled, when I was a fielder I put my hand down to collect it and Richard kicked instead, hurting my hand and making me cry. Nothing was broken but it swelled up and I had a long piece of orange plaster tape wrapped around to protect it, this was done at the local clinic, not the main hospital. I recall getting told off as it was covered in writing ‘but Miss it wasn’t me who wrote on it’.
These are just some good memories of my early age, I’m so glad I can remember the names. I’m sure more will come back when I think about other things.