16 August 2012
When I was a lad we didn't have stairs. Nope, none at all. You've got it easy.
Now, our bathroom was on the second floor of our house and to get to it we had to fashion a climbing structure out of food from the larder. A 14 foot climbing frame made from goats legs, beef sausages and the occasional tin of Heinz baked beans and because of this, it was vitally important that after using the toilet, hands were washed. Tins of beans, that's another thing. You can easily buy them now from shops but in my day, there was no such luxury. We had to go out and hunt them on the Heath. The little buggers were hard to track down. One time me and my brother Mary were out on the Heath from dawn till dusk and managed to trap only 1 tin. That's 1 tin to feed my family. All 801 of us. We were lucky. Times were different then, it was always four thirty, not half past four. If we came back with nothing we would have been the evening meal. Just think about what life used to be like the next time you are scoffing on your beans or indeed sitting on the toilet trying to push one out. Stairs are a luxury I tell you.
Stairs • Opuss № I