We're talking late 60s early seventies here. Male drunks were quite common but women weren't even served in bars here. They'd drink in 'The Snug', a little annex you'd enter by a side door where you'd be served through a little hatch. My mother was the talk of the town and provided fine ammunition for groups of kids who'd surround you, taunting and jeering , then pushing and pummelling and suddenly you'd find yourself on the ground. I had to learn to reef and scrawb quick smart.
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I though I had bad parents. But yours definitely take any cakes I've ever seen. How on earth did you come out so sensible? I guess living so far out of the norm helped quite a bit.
I read a lot of Enid Blyton and made believe I belonged to my aunt and uncle who looked after me at weekends:)