The tumbler had a familiar shape, a retro design, or perhaps a glass that had somehow endured four or even five decades. Finishing the milk, the name of the French manufacturer could be read, as it must have been hundreds of times in childhood years. Such glasses were used at dinnertime in the Church of England Primary School in our village, school dinner each day was a two course meal served with water to drink (perhaps at Christmas orange squash was allowed). School dinners were predictable, meat potatoes and vegetable, …

Sid used to organize the outings. He lived in our village, where there was no public transport, but never learned to drive, relying on a workmate for the daily journey to the shoe factory in which they worked. Perhaps it was the lack of a car that prompted him, though if that was the whole explanation he might just have planned trips for his own family; perhaps he was an innately sociable person. Sid organized day trips to West Country destinations. The thought only occurs in retrospect that there must …

Picking up the pencil, there was the scent of it having been freshly sharpened. The wood smell brought memories from childhood days in Somerset.

In days before everyone had ballpoint and felt tip pens, pencils were pervasive. In our primary school, we were allowed to write with pens only in the penultimate year, until that time everyone was supplied with an HB pencil. Clipped to the edge of the teacher’s desk at the front of the room, there was a sharpener into which one inserted a pencil and turned the …