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For those of a certain age πŸ™„ or even younger πŸ‘, What was you fondest memories of early childhood that gave you a passion for the Country side


oldypigeonpopper
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Hello, perusing with a coffee before I go to my friends farm got me thinking on the above, Born in West Sussex Christmas 1949 in the local cottage hospital , our house was in a row of about 20 and right upon a hill , and our back garden looked on to 1000s of acres of fields, woods, and rolling hills and on a very clear day you could see for miles and miles, fast forward a few years I began to like this view and it became my playground ( mother permitting 😁) this was when I realised how beautiful our countryside was and loved hearing the birds sing and the farmer out working in the fields, oh so very different now πŸ™„ 🏠🏠🏠🏠🏠🏠🏠 every where, they say that's progress, still I love the view as I drive down to the my friends farm , stopping on the hill again having another coffee 🍡 I can see as far as my back garden in Sussex and still get that same feeling, thanks for readingΒ 

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wandering off with some sausages and eggs frying pan and fishing rods,....10 No 6...and sherbet fountains...and spending the day fishing in the shade of the overhanging trees...............and watching the countryside and smelling it and listening to it

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Being in Devon with my late Grandad, walking on his shoot, releasing birds then feeding them, out on the rabbits with the single barrel hushpower too. Just being out there with the man I looked up to so much was enough to get me hooked.

Β 

I'm unsure if 37 makes me young or of a certain age now ha

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Living 1.5 miles from Sherwood Forest and walking the dogs there as a child. Fishing in Wellow dam and the River Maune. Taking a picnic and going swimming in the Maune. Hiking miles over the Derbyshire Dales with my Parents and Sister on day trips. Camping on small farm sites from Scotland to Cornwall and exploring the coastall paths and beaches. Catching my first mackerals in Dawlish Warren. It was an idilic 50's and 60's childhood. :)

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My parents filled the swimming pool in with dirt so I had a awesome sand box to play in. Β So when I was young I would collect rocks from the creek and build castles for my plastic army men. Β I would have log cabins made of sticks and pallisades, with moats and rock walls. Β I would even build scaled down townsΒ with thatched roofs. Β I would then put my BB gun in a sighting sled with a string taped to the trigger and fire it like a cannon to lay siege to the castle I spent all day building followed by burning the wood houses and fort. Β 

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Another found memory was when I was around 11. Β We had about 35 acres of old cars my dad would sell parts off of. Β Dad gave my sister and I a hatchback datsun car he took in on trade. Β We had a mile or two of dirt roads on our farm so my sister and I would rally around. Β Dad raced dirt tract some so he thought my sister and I how to throttle steer at a young age. Β Honestly with all the curves you couldn’t get faster than 35-40 miles and hour but when you are 11-14 years old and running a 4 speed like a rally driver on dirt farm roadsΒ it’s pretty amazing. Β 

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In the Pennines we had an acre of rough land leading to a stream and an accessible wood across the road, so my brothers and I were out from dawn to dusk (apart from meal-times), building camps, fishing for sticklebacks, exploding rabbit holes with weedkiller explosive or shooting a pre-war BSA 177 air-rifle and generally just being boys.

We later moved away and discovered coarse fishing and canoeing in the local canal.

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I have fond memories of fishing with my Dad, and playing in the woods which is where local BIG shoot is, and was even back then.Β 
My Dad and his brother used to load for visiting shooters.Β 
I recall various firearms (Β I seriously doubt any were legit’ ) knocking about toΒ which I was always drawn like a magnet.Β 

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Born in a large town. My grandad was the last in a line of gamekeepers.Β 

Going for walks with him and eventually uncles taking me fishing on the River Dee in Wales whenΒ i was 10. Teaching me about birds and animals of the farms.

IΒ wanted to live in the country from then. With marriage and kids...and then a divorce, i eventually packed up in 2010 and moved to a cottage in the hills of Cheshire... im never going back to live in a town.

Β 

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Spending my 6 weeks summer holidays at an Aunts' farm in the late 50's. Helping with haymaking, milking, harvesting but mainly shooting many rabbits with an old BSA air rifle. The bunnies (all head shot) were taken into Welshpool on a Monday, sold to the butcher and then round to the sports shop for more ammo. I can recall on one holiday at another relation's house, in Anglesey, setting a night line across a small sea inlet, to fish the night tide. My alarm failed to go off and it was a good hour after the tide had left. I dashed to my night line to find 4 Seagulls and a dab. The Seagulls took some releasingΒ and the dab was a touch small. I have never set a night line sinceΒ  !Β Β 

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Collecting plants, herbs and nettles, tapping Birch trees for sap, all to be made into wine.

Course fishing and fishing for trout and learning to tickle them in small streams.Β 

Picnics in the grass and heather.

All with my grandad.Β 

Roaming the local common and woods and making dodgy rope swings with friends.

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Helping my late Grandfather clean his side by side after he had been shooting, that would have been 55 years ago. Also remember going for a country walk with him when he stopped, picked up a stone, threw it and rushed of to dispatch a stunned rabbit. Walking back and Grandma showed me how to skin and cook it. Country life had me hookedΒ 

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32 minutes ago, strimmer_13 said:

I remember seeing my mates older sister in the shower when I was getting the cows in one evening. Walked funny all night... πŸ˜…

Strummer I bet you were eager to get the cows in for the next few evenings after that.

me I was flanking in with my grandad at 5 or 6 beating with dad by 8 both moors and woods, always my grandads favourite and he taught me skinning rabbits to helping him down the auction and how to drive too fast in the pie delivery van and learning how to curse ! I recallΒ Β that school holidays I was grandads shadow. The smell of his pipe tobacco ( from a jar in a tobacconistΒ in Otley Β ) I was always sent home smellingΒ of it. His passing hit me hard but it taught me that life is not a practice and enjoy what’s under your nose !Β 

atb Agriv8

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I was born and brought up in a little terrace house about 200 yards from the edge of the estuary , both our infants and junior school were nearly next to each other and I remember being in the play ground when the punt gunners would come past on their push bikes with the duck tied up on the handle bars , the cripple stopper would be in a bit sacking tied to the cross bars , when they walked past I would ask them if they got many , all you ever got back was , yer we *** a few boi , little did I know then that 4 or 5 years later me and my brother would buyΒ our first gun punt and my love of wildfowling had begun , 60 years later the desire to shoot fowl have started to wane a bit but I have just renewed my membership in the club I first joined in 1964 .

Last night after I had my tea it was far to nice to sit at home so I went for a walk at the top end of the estuary at Burgh Castle , standing on the highest point near the old Roman castle ruins you can look over the marshes towards where our good friend Ditchman live at Cantley Β and time stand still with the view ,Β Β I dare say if we could turn the clock back 100 years the view would have looked exactly the same , miles and miles of grazing marshes and on a clear day you can see 18 windmills , the love of the countryside have never left me and for the rest of my days it never will .

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Going for walks along "the Derwent walk " a disused railway line on our doorstep after calling into local chippy for fishcake & chips with plenty of S&V . My dad knew (as I thought) everything about the birds we saw on the walks . Stop & watch the badgersΒ 

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