Weekend Ways

Shopping in the 1950s was so very different from today. That is a truism. I was  so fully immersed in the shopping experience that I should have had "Errand Boy" printed on my forehead.

I started out as an amateur, being sent by my mother to the Village. The Village was Withington in South Manchester. It was more or less a single street, Wilmslow Road, with shops on either side. Our grocery shop was T Seymore Mead's, a shop with high dark brown counters. There  were huge barrel shaped mounds of butter and sugar in sacks: the butter to be wrapped in greaseproof paper and the sugar in blue sugar -paper bags. I went to the shop with the list and it was delivered later by a boy on a bike. John Williams was a less favoured establishment, although much nearer, being just around the corner.The place for all dry goods, dried fruit, and nuts was Redmans and it had its own distinctive aroma. I was sent for meat to Rodley's round the corner. Rodley had a very fine MG TF all red and shiny.  He had a reputation for high prices and had to be watched. I was under strict instructions "No fat !".

 There was also a Private subscription library in Boots the chemist, which my mother joined, probably because they had a reputation for clean books. I was never allowed to borrow comics because of the danger of germs. I was however a member of the library which stood at the entrance to the village and I went there, usually, on Saturday afternoon.

I became a professional errand boy working for J Evans & Son green grocers on Mauldeth road  in the parade of shops adjoining Yew Tree road. I worked on Friday evening and Saturday morning. The orders were packed in boxes and I loaded them on my order bike and off I went. I sometimes collected money but generally the order was pre-paid. My final order was slightly out of the district delivered to the  chairwoman of the local Conservative Association, Mrs Schofield.  Mrs Evans was a staunch Conservative.  It was a large order and usually totalled 12/6, quite a lot for those days. I usually got a tip of 6d for my trouble here. 

If I had time to spare before I finished at one o'clock, I used to wash celery with water and a soft brush. The bananas, in those days came in long wooden coffin shaped boxes and I was not allowed to open those because you never knew what was inside. Spiders and snakes were quite common. The snakes were dead but still frightening.

Then I went off home to the welcoming aroma of roast beef and our usual Saturday dinner, no lunch in those days and then sometimes off to the Match in the afternoon to Old Trafford with my Dad.

Sunday was a church day. As I was an altar boy I was required morning and afternoon; every Sunday morning but every other afternoon. The priests I served were good men. The old parish priest was a bit crotchety, had a limp and found it difficult moving about. This made him irritable. The two curates were helpful, kind and caring. There there was no funny goings on in my parish. I would have known. Altar boys were given, in those days, to detailed scandal and gossip, usually about the local talent.

JL May 18 12:28