JUST you wait while your dad comes home’, or, ‘Do that again and I shall have to tell your dad’.

These were the words which were used to keep me and my two brothers in order — my father was held up as a figure to be in awe of.

Years later, when I got older I, of course, found out that was not so. That he was strict, was never in doubt, but he was also caring and concerned.

I can only suppose that was how it was done at that time.

The ‘father’ was head of the household and in those far off days, very few women went out to work.

They were, as the old saying of the day said, ‘tied to the kitchen sink’ and, having no money of their own, were completely dependent on their husbands.

Now, in a loving relationship, this arrangement was fine, but in many cases, it was not so happy and for those women there was no escape.

Divorce and separations were a definite ‘no no’, and a big social stigma.

But glad to say, I sincerely hope those days are over.

I wonder whether you, like me, remember when young lads and lasses paraded up Preston New Road and by Corporation Park on Sunday afternoons?

We were all pretending to ignore each other, but secretly hoping that ‘he’ would at least look across and acknowledge you. Oh yes! They were really innocent times.

Sex. Now let me think! Wasn’t that those bags that the coal came in’? And a kiss was just a kiss and not the prelude to an orgy.

Bill is off to Manchester to watch a rugby match. I often wonder what makes all these games — such as football, cricket, or darts — so fascinating to men.

Are they mentally really there playing? Do they all secretly wish to be out on that field, scoring that goal? By the look on their faces, I really think that they do.

I was put off sport when I got hit very hard several times playing hockey, it took ages for my ankles to recover.