GUESS what? It is August — and not a pot washed or a blow struck.

Funny but the minute that I say that I am back standing beside my mother, tugging at her skirt to get her attention as she started the washing-up at the kitchen sink.

In those long-ago days, this was referred to as the slop stone. Why? Well, I do not know.

MORE TOP STORIES:

I remember that the one we first had at Feniscowles was a very shallow brown stone affair, so we always had to have a large white enamel bowl in it.

I recall my mum was quite chuffed when my dad had a very deep white sink put in, which was also used, when we were little, as a substitute bath.

It saved bringing in the big zinc bath that hung outside in the yard, until Friday night, which was bath night.

Being a girl and the youngest, I was first in line for the bath ritual, which took place in front of a nice warm fire. Warming in the oven would be our night clothes — oh, the pleasure of a nice warm nightie and being put in bed with a teddy-shaped hot water bottle.

I went to the cathedral on Sunday and I have made a promise to myself that I will endeavour to go much more often, because it was a lovely service and Canon Hindley’s sermon was excellent.

I do not really like the word sermon because it makes it sound a bit like you are being chastised. The way I look at it is as a way of making you think and consider just a little bit harder about things and life in general.

We often go about our life barely thinking, noticing, or really considering what effect we might be having on those around us.

We are just so intent on doing what we think is best for us.

It is not that we really mean to hurt or even to be inconsiderate — but just by being in a such a hurry to do our own thing we often end up doing just that.

So, I am making myself a promise — take a little more time.

After all, what is the hurry? There is all day tomorrow untouched.