Right up my Alley

KL Caley is our host for the Thursday Write Photo challenge. Click here for more info and how to join in.

For visually challenged writers, the image shows a cobbled alleyway with green doors located along it.

The alley hasn’t changed much. Even the colours of the doors are the same, but that’s only because the landlord got a job lot at a discount.
It’s silent now, no kids playing footie or hopscotch, and the familiar bicycles are no longer propped up against walls.  Funny how in those days you could leave your bike outside and know it would still be there when you came out.
The sounds of ‘Coo-ee’ at the back door was a sign to put the kettle on and get out the biscuits if you were rich enough to have any. On Mondays, there was usually cake as Sunday was baking day for the week.

Us kids were at least 6 to a family, sleeping arrangements top to tail in a double bed, boys and girls together didn’t matter in the two up two down.  We were warm, fed, had clothes on our backs and shoes on our feet. Everyone had a good coat, even if it was a hand me down from a sibling or a neighbour.
Outsiders called us urchins as we had grubby faces, hands and knees, but we went to bed clean, in clean sheets smelling of sunshine and lavender. Bath night was fun when the old tin bath was yanked off the kitchen wall and the eldest of us had first dip. No-one minded sharing.
Nobody minded, period.
We were all cut from the working class cloth, but our values were higher than most. There was an honour amongst us in that alley. No bullying was allowed, and should it start, Big Brothers came to rescue and had ‘a quiet word’.
No, the alley hasn’t changed that much. I’m the landlord now and look after my tenants.
They in turn look after my property, keep the streets clear, and the windows clean.
There’s always a cup of tea on offer when I collect the rent. Some of it is paid in paper, other in coppers and shillings, but always on time and always in full.
The honour in that Alley will never die as long as I’m living.


About pensitivity101

I am a retired number cruncher with a vivid imagination and wacky sense of humour which extends to short stories and poetry. I love to cook and am a bit of a dog whisperer as I get on better with them than people sometimes! In November 2020, we lost our beloved Maggie who adopted us as a 7 week old pup in March 2005. We decided to have a photo put on canvas as we had for her predecessor Barney. We now have three pictures of our fur babies on the wall as we found a snapshot of Kizzy, my GSD when Hubby and I first met so had hers done too. On February 24th 2022 we were blessed to find Maya, a 13 week old GSD pup who has made her own place in our hearts. You can follow our training methods, photos and her growth in my blog posts. From 2014 to 2017 'Home' was a 41 foot narrow boat where we made strong friendships both on and off the water. We were close to nature enjoying swan and duck families for neighbours, and it was a fascinating chapter in our lives. We now reside in a small bungalow on the Lincolnshire coast where we have forged new friendships and interests.
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15 Responses to Right up my Alley

  1. That is such a warm tale! Sounds like a true story

  2. Carol anne says:

    They were happier simpler times, Di! I bet, anyway! Xx

  3. Nope, Not Pam says:

    That’s great, you’ve built a gorgeous picture of life, wonderful

  4. murisopsis says:

    A sweet look back at what was and what can be if the right folks are in a position of authority!

  5. glyn40wilton says:

    Up to the last few lines I actually thought it WAS a true story. I remember spending time in the alleyways where my friends lived, when it was safe to play outside.

  6. Jemima Pett says:

    That alley has definitely resonated with several of us! Nice work 🙂

  7. KL Caley says:

    This is wonderful, Di. It could read like a diary! Such a wonderful reflection of what was, and an understanding of what ‘enough’ really means. Thank you for a marvellous entry to #writephoto. KL ❤

  8. Pingback: #Writephoto Round-Up – Alley – New2Writing

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