A glittering prize is the price of lost love

My childhood centred, as everyone's (mostly) does, around their home. 

I lived in a crescent. 

Our houses were cottage flats - four apartments in a block.  All the neighbours knew each other; Upstairs from us  The Daw-Daws; across the path; the Youngs and the Grays; next door the Steeles and next door the other way,  Fraters.  Across the Road, were the Hillhouses, the man with the funny car; Jonesy; Nanna, and Matta the dog.  You couldn't do a thing - everyone knew who you were and who your parents were. 

This shop was the half way point of the crescent, and at one time faced onto the Bridge which led to the secondary school.  (the bridge was subsequently demolished, and it wasn't until after I left, that they closed the railway line and allowed access from that direction again)

I found this photo and it was like unleashing a bucketful of memories into my brain. 

The shop had glass counters all round;  cold and cooked meats on the left, with a large slicing machine, and also one of those boards with a wire cutter for cheese. 

Bread and cakes were on the front of the counter to the left, and then was the "leaning" on bit of the counter, which had a flip lid where you could enter and exit the back shop.  Chocolate to the right of that, and then penny mix ups. (Yes, PENNY  Mixups) - and then boxes of crisps - Golden Wonder (there weren't any other types then), and behind them, jars and jars of sweets. (quarter of).

You went and collected your paper from here-  i don't recal them laying out on the counter.  You asked and you were given your paper.  Dad walked up every morning before his work and picked up two. 

I remember one day walking up with the Dog, and Stevie had a pile of manure delivered;  HoneyPig (Dogwithnobrain) jumped right into the middle and started eating it. I nearly threw up in to the middle of it, trying to drag her out of it. 

And when I was 5, this just to the right of the shot - I fell off my blue bike, scraped my knees but scrambled back on, not realising my seat had fallen off my bike when I fell, and hurt myself even worse. 

When dad died, we no longer lived in the Crescent, but close enough that this was our local shop, and over the days between his death and his funeral, I think we bought them out of cold meat and rolls. 

It's all gone now.  the wall was continued right round; the concrete lifted and the garden extended, and the shop is now part of the house.  

Almost like it never existed anywhere other than in my head. 

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