I think we’ve all done things wrong as children (and maybe adults too) that we’re really ashamed of, even...
At the school I attended, there was a theoretical possibility of being spanked, but such punishments were rare. Even...
Like many of my friends growing up in the early 1970s, I was spanked for misbehaviour. It wasn’t a...
When I was growing up in the 1980s, corporal punishment was generally out of favour – but not in...
I wasn’t spanked much when I was a kid, and my sisters even less. I always deserved it when...
I grew up in Motherwell, central Scotland, in an era (60s/70s) where the belt was still used in schools...
Once upon a time, in the cheerful little village of Thornton-le-Dale, nestled in the heart of Yorkshire, there lived...
My mother was a formidable woman, sturdy and unadorned, with a plain cotton dress and apron, sensible shoes always...
(gap: 2s) On the bright, blustery mornings of the 1960s, the new housing estates on the edge of Glasgow...
(gap: 2s) My memories of childhood in the early 1970s are painted in warm, sun-faded colours—days filled with laughter,...
In the grey, drizzly days of the 1960s, when the sky above Hull seemed permanently hung with clouds and...
At home that afternoon, I faced the music. Mum sat me down and explained my sentence. “I’ve spoken to...
In the shadowy corners of Surrey, where the clouds hung low and the houses stood in neat, grey rows,...
Once upon a time, nestled in the rolling green hills of Devon, there was a quiet English village where...
Why is it, I sometimes wonder, that so few people speak of the true grit and grind of family...
(gap: 2s) In the days of my boyhood, during the 1950s, our estate was a patchwork of modest homes...
(gap: 2s) Once upon a Time, in a sun-dappled Texas town where the porches were wide and the hearts...
Once, in the heart of a bustling Surrey estate, there lived a boy named Peter. Peter was a cheerful...
(gap: 0.5s) I’m a Texan girl, born and raised beneath the wide, sun-bleached skies, where the air hums with...
Once, in the gentle days of my childhood, our little family—Mother, Father, my younger brother, and I—came to dwell...
(gap: 2s) In the days of my youth, when the world was a little more proper and the air...
(gap: 2s) It was a bright and bracing Sunday morning in the year of 1954, and the village of...
My childhood unfolded in the heart of a red-brick council estate in late 1960s Kent, where the air was...
(gap: 2s) My earliest memories are painted in the muted reds and greys of a Kent council estate, late...
The only place I ever went for sleepovers as a child was to my best friend Hannah’s house, where...
(gap: 2s) In the gentle hills of Arkansas, during the 1950s, I spent my childhood in a house where...
(gap: 2s) The south London of my childhood was a world of contrasts—grey tower blocks rising above narrow streets,...
(gap: 2s) In the gentle glow of a 1950s afternoon, as sunlight filtered through lace curtains and laughter of...
(gap: 1s) The house I grew up in was a world of gentle order and quiet routines, where the...
(gap: 2s) My childhood unfolded in the gentle embrace of a small town in the 1960s, where the sun...
I was utterly astonished when James confided in me that his Mother had taken to using the cane, a...