Some of you read and enjoyed the excerpts I printed from my father's story of his early years growing up in the Scottish countryside. At about the same time, my mother was being raised in the bustling and overcrowded city of Glasgow. 11 years ago my journalist brother-in-law interviewed her and recorded her memories of those childhood years. This is an edited extract:
Once a month we went to the bath-house for a ‘real do’ where we could take our time and have plenty of hot water. That was quite fun. The baths were in a big building with the wash-house and the swimming pool and each bath was in a little cubicle.
We had a wash-house for clothes washing at the back of the tenement, shared by all the families in the building, and we took it in turns to use it. Each family would be allocated a different day and time of the week and you had to get up really early in the morning to light the fire under the boiler to heat up your water. You had to supply your own wringer and then hang your washing out in the back court, which was a huge area, about the size of half a football pitch. If it rained, you took your washing indoors and hung it on pulleys in the apartment.