Memory Lane part 3

That should actually be Chester Street, rather than memory lane!

Chester Street is the first place I lived in Accrington when my Mum & Dad separated.

The same as all my other reminiscing visits, the area has changed somewhat since my childhood days.

On the lower left of the photo (just in shot) are some houses now; that used to be a playground, where I spent most of my free time. Our house was next door but one to this, so again my Mum would shout me in for tea and could usually keep an eye on me from the kitchen window.

Locally it was known as the 'ABC park' because there were 3 alphabet climbing frames, as well as a seesaw and swings.

I remember in summer, the tarmac would melt and we would pick at it; that was great fun for me, but Mum played hell with me for the state I got myself (& clothes) in!

There were a couple of traumatic incidents on this park too. The first involved a game of kiss chase with a much older boy and a few of my friends.
At first this was fun, but as he got fed up being run ragged, he picked up a half brick that was lying around and threw it. I could see it heading for me but rather than run, I ducked and it hit me right on the head!

I ran home screaming, with the traumatised boy running after me (probably 'bricking' what my Mum would do to him).
I told her he'd thrown a brick at my head, but he said he hadn't and that I had fallen over and hit my head on a brick (as if I would make that up!!).
As he was older, my Mum believed him over my protestations and made me apologise to him for lying!!

I ended up in hospital with a fractured skull and I had to have stitches. Had it not been for this, I would have had a good hiding from Mum I'm sure, but I was let off with just a rollicking for telling lies!

My second trauma involves the lamppost on the left of this photo.

The street doesn't look that steep looking at it now, but it was a great incline for roller skating, providing you didn't go too far up.

One day, I decided to go a bit further up the street to say hello to 'Mrs Sunshine'. I never knew this lady's real name; we called her that because when it was a sunny day, she would sit outside her front door on a dining chair and read a book. She lived quite near the top of the block, but I figured it would be ok to just skate back down, using the door jambs as a stop when I needed to slow down.

It didn't work out like that though. I started to roll and soon picked up such a pace I couldn't stop myself with anything. Until I hit the lamppost at the bottom of the hill.

I remember falling backwards onto the pavement, with every last ounce of breath knocked out of my body; I thought I was going to die!
I must have lay there for about 15 minutes before I slowly recovered my breathing.

Needless to say, future visits to Mrs Sunshine were done without wheels!


In other news....I visited my neighbour yesterday, just to see how she is (no mention of her house). Turns out it wasn't just a stroke she had but Motor Neurone Disease.
She has deteriorated a lot since I last saw her & her speech is difficult to comprehend at times but we muddled through. I've ended up volunteering to be her cleaning lady, since she couldn't find anyone willing to only do an hour a week. I can more than spare this to help her out and I think she's happier knowing that it's someone she knows.

She has 4 carers coming in throughout the day but by all accounts they are a waste of space. I witnessed the lunchtime one today....she was there for all of 10 minutes (she's meant to be there for half an hour).
She literally gave her some lunch then legged it.

I called in after seeing this; her empty plates were just left on the floor (Eileen can hardly take them away in her condition). The evening carer has twice put her to bed at 7.30pm, she said she feels like a naughty child! The morning one doesn't even take her hot water bottle out of the bed.

Mr A and I debated carers last night (apologies if you are one and do a great job; there must be some of you out there); I think it's shameful that they are being paid to do a job and they are putting minimal effort in to it.
This is an old, infirm lady (and a retired nurse which is why she is hyper critical of the care she is getting, but with good reason), who is relying on these people to help get her through the day.

When I heard she isn't drinking much during the day because she's too scared she may need the loo during the night it made me so mad! To be put to bed at 7.30pm and left until 8.30am (it was 10.30 on a couple of occasions) is disgusting.

At the end of the day, we all want to finish work and get home. But this is a service that is being paid for. Yeah the pay might be crap but you're still being paid to do a job; don't do it if you don't like it!

That's my rant over! Suffice to say, we will be keeping an eye on things from now on.