I was born during WW11 and the first I knew of Renfrew, from my pram, was talk of rationing, ration books, THE WAR, blackouts, the latest bombings. My brothers and father were all away 'at the war', brothers in the Air Force and my father in the Merchant Navy. Like most others, we were an all female household most of the time. My aunt was 'called up' for National Service - in the Land Army, billeted at Inchinnan and 'served her time' with the other young ladies digging up the allotments on the Inchinnan Road, near the football ground. These allotments had been, before the war, a male preserve, my father and uncles using them to grow flowers and win prizes occasionally - my father won a prize for his sweet peas. Now they were being used to 'feed the nation' though they wouldn't have fed many people. My aunt then married a GI, an American serviceman who was billeted at the Sheepie Park and worked at the airbase at Abbotsinch  at what is now  Renfrew Airport. As the war ended, they went off to America, the blackout blinds came down from the windows, shops had bright lights showing again and foods unknown to me were beginning to appear. I well remember eating my first banana - a luxury - and trying to eat it with the skin on. Christmas shopping was to me like fairyland, with all the shop windows brightly lit and lovely things like dolls prams and paper dressing -up - dollies, often in army uniforms,  in the windows.

Our diet had been very good in the circumstances, and my granny  and mother spent their sweetie rations on us children, giving us barley sugar and a chocolate biscuit from the Ferry Cafe on our frequent trips to the Ferry Green. Entertainment was a Go-as-you-please at the Robertson Park [I won a prize for a poem at the age of three and never tried again, but they were the best fruit gums in the world.] The Renfrew Regal was a great place to go, and occasionally the Moorpark Cinema where you could queue outside at the back and get in to sit on wooden benches just in front of the screen, for fourpence. Walks to Inchinnan Bridge, the Blythswood Estate where the rhododendrons were always splendid, singing in front of the fire at home and  with the ever -present radio. Simple pleasures that didn't cost much.

Then came school! Enrolled at  the Blythswood School I took my money for school milk - it was - would you believe it now - a FARTHING a bottle! Then later to Moorpark School when the authorities decided to change the boundary lines, followed by the standard three years at Renfrew High [The Glebe School]. Schooldays were lots of homework, lots of friends and lots of fun. Time after school was spent playing  in the Robertson Park, swimming at the Baths, ice skating in Paisley, and 'getting the messages'. A fish supper was a treat, as was ice cream.  I loved singing and used to ask to wash the stairs when it was our turn to do it, so I could sing my heart out. The neighbours were kind and didn't complain. Later I joined the school choir and got to sing for real. One thing I almost forgot about school was 'The Strap'. Now that really DID hurt! It wasn't too often I got it but I knew it when I did! And those '100 lines' as punishment  for this or that  offence.

On Sundays we went to Sunday School, first at the Salvation Army - I was christened there - then at the North Church. Later it was MacDonald's Mission too. We met our friends, met nice adults and got to sing in church! We even put on a Christmas concert and sang in different languages including Chinese. I doubt that among the large audience there was one person who spoke Mandarin, but we sang it anyway -  'When He cometh'. It's not possible to encapsulate a childhood in a few short paragraphs. but they were happy days and Renfrew was a good place to be, no crime, no trouble apart from perhaps a bus being late, or a neighbour who objected to us drawing chalk lines on the pavement to play peever.

Now that's me - as it was then - in the Forties and Fifties. Drop me a line with YOUR memories too and I'll add them in to the website.