The “Garden Shed” was my refuge as a teenager. As My little bro’s \u00a0so called clean cut sister, I would pop out to see how the “game of cards” was progressing on a regular basis. Once when the folks were on their hols, my nan was posted on guard to make sure that we didn’t get into trouble while the folks were away. We would sit in that shed for hours getting up to no good while she intermittently knocked on the door to say that she “didn’t like the smell of the candles” we were burning in my Grandad’s shed.<\/p>\n
And Yes Matty Mac, I do remember getting off the bus from College to see you n our kid performing the latest musical creations on our kitchen roof extension. How we all laughed at the incessant ringing of the phone as the next door neighbours and other members of the Grove tried to RING!!!! and tell us to quit the racket. Me mam however soon put a stop to the musical extravaganza when the 586 bus rounded the corner, and as she got off at the end of Harpers Road and saw the display of talent, made haste towards the source of the spectacle that was coming from the rear of our house. I have never seen anyone pack up their gear and scarper (through a bathroom window none the less) at a quicker speed. Those were the days x<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The “Garden Shed” was my refuge as a teenager. As My little bro’s \u00a0so called clean cut sister, I would pop out to see how the “game of cards” was progressing on a regular basis. Once when the folks were on their hols, my nan was posted on guard to make sure that we didn’t…<\/p>\n