Jill Sparrow

I remember Mr Clark at the post office. I didn't like him...I think it was the bald head...and refused to enter the post office. This was before I started school at 4 years old. Mr Clark often came out to say hello to me but had to scuttle in again when I started screaming! Nick was at Berridge with my older sister.

Welcome to Nottstalgia Mr Meeseeks. I'm sure you'll enjoy the site Cliff Ton is bound to be interested in your memories and photos, although I think it's a tad before his time. Keep posting! Makes interesting reading.

Sorry Loppy, that must have been painful but it made me laugh! Kittens have a habit of climbing up your back which is also painful! One of mine continued to do it when a fully grown cat...even more painful!

Don't worry Ben. You will be fine. You might find the op leaves you with an even more attractive voice! . I am also intending to cut my working hours. Can't do full time any more, just get too tired now with the thyroid problem. Good news is, more ME time! I'll be along to Wethers in Bulwell one of these days!

What's all this, our Ben? Last day at work? Surely they're not dispensing with your services? Their loss!

He won't be taking it with him!

Those of us born from the late 40s to the 60s have been blessed. We have been able to achieve things our parents were not, in many cases. University, good health for which we didn't have to pay privately, affordable mortgages to enable home ownership, employment and the chance to save. Some of us, myself included, now have pension ages of 66 but, if we've been careful, are able to retire before this. The younger generation sometimes looks at us enviously, perhaps, but we didn't achieve any of it without hard work. Certainly, nothing was ever handed to me on a plate and I wouldn't

The young of today have it rough? Perhaps they do. What about our parents who lived through the 20s and 30s, years of depression, unemployment, no social care, no NHS, no job seekers' allowance. When they reached 18, they were conscripted to fight in a war from which many didn't return and others were scarred for life. Then they faced years of rationing, food, clothes and everything else. When they married, they couldn't afford mortgages or rent so many lived with their parents for years in cramped, unfit conditions. They had fathers who had lived through even worse during 1914-18.

What a novel idea, PP. That way you get exactly what you want and don't have to remortgage the house to pay for it! Sounds different. I approve!

I've had this discussion several times with male friends. The only thing to fear is fear itself. Hiding away and worrying won't solve anything and, 99% of the time, it turns out to be nothing serious as with Trogg and NBL. If someone told me I had terminal cancer, I admit I would make the most of the time I had left and would not put myself through what is often gruelling treatment. Death doesn't scare me. The important thing is to make an informed choice and you cannot do that unless you know exactly what the problem is...and that means seeing the quack. So, well done chaps!

What on earth is a ten dollar Yank? I've heard of a ten dollar pretzel...Tony Curtis describing Jack Lemmon's female persona in the 1959 film Some Like it Hot..."He was done up like a ten dollar pretzel!" Ten dollar Yank I've not heard before.

Quite agree, Brew. I have never had children, from choice, because it is a huge commitment and I have no qualifications which fit me to be a parent. I don't have the answers to life's fundamental questions, therefore how can I guide someone else? Of course, I've been criticised for not having children by people who have the absurd idea that by not doing so I have wasted my life and not fulfilled my existence as a female! Complete and utter tosh! I might add that those who made such observations usually had an unruly tribe with whom they struggled to cope. They are more than welcome to my share

Listen to our Ben! It's just an excuse to get admitted to hospital so he can chase the nurses! Gets more like Chulla every day!

I clearly recall seeing Mitchell & Butler on the gable end of Le Grand. One reason why my father never went there.

It's a shame he can't find something more constructive and educational to do with his time. Personally, I can't see the point of gaming. The only things I've ever been addicted to are crosswords.

Jake and Bailey would love a swimming pool!

I protest, young Trogg. I've always been a trouble maker. I come from a very long line of trouble makers. Its in my DNA. The head mistress at The Manning once told my father during parents' evening that his daughter was a troublemaker. "Of course she is," he replied. "She's my daughter and she's been brought up not to follow the herd which automatically means she's a troublemaker!" I'm almost 61 and I'm not going to change now...and, anyway, I don't want to!

Pianoman is not wrong! Some big chords!

Bring me my sword of burning gold/ Bring me my arrows of desire/Bring me my shield, oh clouds unfold/Bring me my chariot of fire!/ I will not cease from mental flight/Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand/Til we have built Jerusalem in England's green and pleasant land. We used to sing it regularly in morning assembly at The Manning and I love it still. Good old Hubert Parry!

He ain't nothin but a hound dog, Ben!

Sometimes I come home at night not having understood a word I've heard all day, not to mention feeling that mindless trivia has taken over the planet. It's time I retired!

If I was being cynical, and I often am, I suppose that the majority of people who have fought in this world's conflicts didn't really understand why. If you can prevent people thinking about things and understanding situations, you can control them with ease. Providing them with access to lots of addictive food and drink helps, as do social media sites and brain numbing rubbish on 24 hour a day tv channels. Life is cheap, always was, probably always will be.

There'd be some trouble if I still lived there and the mullah...or whatever he's called...woke me up at that time with a racket from the minaret!

They don't care, Loppy. As long as there's food, beer and fireworks...a lot of noise to preventing em thinking too deeply about things, they're happy!

Yes, Catfan. They lived at 178 Bobbers Mill Road. Ken passed on years ago but would now be in his 90s. I believe Violet, also in her 90s, is still with us. Peter sadly died young and Margaret would now be around 63. Violet came from Dorset and had a strong accent.