One cannot reach the 80s without having seen and experienced a fair bit of life. I am sure I bore people to death with some of my tales, but here are a few of my favourites.

Dangerous jam


I watched  as my father generously spread the
sweet mixture on the first slice.......

During the war, my mother and father would occasionally take a coach ride into the Sussex countryside at weekends. This would leave me alone in the house for a few hours,and I would be free to experiment (I was quite adventurous at eleven). I always wanted to please my parents,and one Sunday I thought I would make cherry jam for their tea.We had the ingredients- cherries, and white sugar- so I boldly began.
All I really knew was, a pound of fruit to a pound of sugar. The rest seemed simple. I washed and destalked the fruit(had I forgotten something there?), and put the ingredients on the stove to boil. When I thought everything looked sticky enough, I found two jam-jars and,when the jam was cooler, spooned it into them. I put greaseproof paper covers over the lovely red jam and waited for my parents to be suitably impressed.
My mother and father returned,tired and ready for tea. They seemed pleased,although I was told that what I had done was dangerous. How dangerous,they were soon to discover! We buttered white bread, and I watched as my father generously spread the sweet mixture on his first slice.
I waited for his smile of pleasure. There was a sudden loud CRACK!,and my father rose. Clapping his hand over his mouth, he rapidly left the room and made for the kitchen.
What could be wrong?
I had forgotten to STONE the fruit,and my father's false teeth had broken in two!