Your 'Angelas Ashes' period..

Ghost Buster

My family moved back from a perfectly good lifestyle in Bristol in 1973 leaving a nice Semi D for my Dads less than palatial family farm in Mayo.
He didnt warn my city reared Mum that it had no inside plumbing and a thunder box in a cow barn as a toilet.
I spent every day from the age of 3 til about 8 carrying buckets of water 500m from a well until we had enough money to get the house plumbed and a toilet built:D.
It didnt scar me in any way. Cant say the same about me Mammy.

Anyone else have a similar experience?

LDN_Irish

I've had a semi D all morning.

LDN_Irish

Not really that similar, but I was born in London to Irish mother and parents split up when I was young, I lived in an alright part of a quote sh1te area over there but my mother couldn't afford it on one wage. "Repatriated" and ended up homeless and got emergency housed off the council on a new development that nobody wanted to live on. Learnt about chungfellits and chungwans and how to blend in with the Irish proletariat after fighting every fooker in a 3 year age radius for being a Cockney KANT.

I've been a full time mad bastard ever since. Actually love the estate I was raised on now. I'm like one of those LA eses who thinks his ****ty barrio is the best place on Earth.

nullzero

LDN_Irish wrote: »

I've had a semi D all morning.

If it's in South Dublin you should get a good price for it and plenty of people showing interest, most likely gazzumping each other to get their hands on it.

Desolation Of Smug

nullzero wrote: »

If it's in South Dublin you should get a good price for it and plenty of people showing interest, most likely gazzumping each other to get their hands on it.

Sadly, it's gonna be grabbed by a banker...:D

Same as the op here except I volunteered...nice part of London straight onto a derelict farm in the middle of the bogs....

kneemos

No jam for my toast this morning.

ToddyDoody

I've never had a period

Big Wex fan

Not quite Angela's Ashes but native born & bread and grew up in the 80's in Ireland in a recession that makes this one look like a miner hiccup. Remember everything in Black & White. We had an inside toilet but plenty of neighbors didn't. Everyone driving around in 70s rust buckets. 9 of us in car for Sunday mass.

Gran Hermano

Encountered severe hardship and experienced true subsistence type living when Dundrum town centre was closed for a few days due to flooding some years back. Nearly contemplated shopping in town.

Banjo String

I can remember people calling for me to come out and play, and my mam telling them I couldn't because my brother had the clothes on that day.

(we only had one pair of jeans, and one sweater to go round the three of us)

force eleven

Once in my student days I opened the food cupboard one morning to reveal nowt but a can of beans. I duly sent my butler out for some bread and butter. Hard times.

Youngblood.III

My father roaring at us to not be putting our feet in the hole in the floor of the car.

galah

When i first came here in 1999, i moved into a house with -the horror!- shagpile carpet in the BATHROOM.

:eek::eek::eek:

Might have to write a book about this once i'm over the shock...

Sheep Lover

galah wrote: »

When i first came here in 1999, i moved into a house with -the horror!- shagpile carpet in the BATHROOM.

:eek::eek::eek:

Might have to write a book about this once i'm over the shock...

I have been in student houses that have carpeted toilet areas. Now that is like a breeding ground for a super virus.

Tom Dunne

Sheep Lover wrote: »

I have been in student houses that have carpeted toilet areas. Now that is like a breeding ground for a super virus.

Or handy if you score and your roommate is a light sleeper.

super_furry

The house I grew up in had no central heating, if you wanted hot water you had to light the fire in the kitchen and wait. On cold mornings you'd wake up with the condensation on the inside of the bedroom windows frozen.

^^Had that too, growing up, and still do, at home. Never thought of it as misery though! If you want a shower, you have to light a fire in the kitchen below the shower room. You wait 30 minutes until the boiler starts squeaking, and then you have your shower. Chaotic on a weekend night.

I was on the other side of the misery exchange when I was working with a homeless agency. Often an elderly person would buzz the intercom at 2am looking for a bed. I'd have to tell them we had no room.

-Do ye have any sleeping bags, then?
-They're all gone. Good night!

And this point they'd often start swearing in frustration, so you'd just go back to your work and ignore the intercom.

But this is the most Angela's Ashes story I've ever heard first-hand. A friend of mine works in the city council with the homeless. He told me about a woman presenting as homeless on a particular evening. The woman had one child in a buggy, and a toddler by the hand. They had no place to stay for the weekend, and the council were out of beds, so she was told that if she really had no place to sleep, to take her two children to a Garda station and ask permission to sleep in a cell. Some life. This is 2015.

galljga1

Youngblood.III wrote: »

My father roaring at us to not be putting our feet in the hole in the floor of the car.

Car?

anewme

Long one so bear with me.

Late 70's, I was eight. Dad worked (low wage) but gambled and/or drank the money. No food usually Tuesdays or Wednesdays( except goody). No phone. No car. No money. No holidays. dressed on the Frawleys clubs. Domestic violence in the home.

Couple of days before Christmas. Saturday morning. Mum and my sister had gone walking to the shops to get some food in over the Christmas. I was at home alone (8 years of age) and watching my favourite film ever (and still is). Willy Wonka (with Gene Wilder) when there was a knock on the door. Who could it be? We were always told not to open the door in case it was "the man" coming to get you!!!

I did not answer but he kept knocking. I looked out the window and saw a white van at the gate and a man at the door with a basket of stuff. once I saw the basket of stuff, my fears disintegrated and I flew to answer the door!

A lovely gentleman asked for my Mum and I said she's gone to the shop. Well can I leave something for you all? He did not have to ask twice. There was a food hamper, a box of toys and a card. (which I later found out contained a very welcome 20 pounds!)

There were toys galore for us two girls but pride of place was a huge yellow teddy bear (with a blue bow) for each of us! There was also a boy doll which fascinated us( look it has a mickey!!!!!, wow)

It turned out my Mum had written to a charity outlining her plight and that was their response. God bless those people.

It's over 35 years ago now, I've done well for myself and try to pay it back where I can, but thinking of that morning( I still remember it like it was yesterday) gets me right there!

Youngblood.III

galljga1 wrote: »

Car?

Car..yes...holes in the floor of it, rust...

galljga1

Youngblood.III wrote: »

Car..yes...holes in the floor of it, rust...

Pampered I say, pampered. We were lucky to have shoes.

cloud493

- Having to choose between electricity and food.
- not even getting the choice most of the time cos my dad drank all the money away cos he was a selfish ****.
- 3 of us sharing one bed
- having to walk 5 miles to primary school every morning cos no car and we couldn't afford the bus service and we never just told them we had no money and ride for free
- same with school dinners
- one new pair of shoes a year

Amazing how I still managed to be a fat child, I tell you.

Sheep Lover

We used to have a picture of a Sunday roast that we used to pass around the dinner table of a Sunday and pretend we were eating it.

galljga1

This sh1t is still the reality for a lot of families today.

Aongus Von Bismarck

I suppose my own Angela’s Ashes “moment” was the entirety of the 1980s. We were by no means starving but I shudder now at the thought of my entire family being packed into a rusting jalopy of an Opel Kadett or being forced to suffer the indignity of buying “Yellow Pack” non-perishables from Quinnsworth. Or going on your holidays to Tramore in Waterford. That was the way it was.

Perhaps that explains why I have such a distaste for the nostalgia merchants you see online. Why look back to when we had to struggle financially and the measure of a man was how many pints of Harp he could drink in two hours? I would rather appreciate the 5 Series I have now than the deathtraps you saw in Ireland when I was a young fellow. “We were poor but we were happy” doesn’t quite cut it for AvB.

harry Bailey esq

Turn off that f*@ing immersion!!

mikom

Aongus Von Bismarck wrote: »

I suppose my own Angela’s Ashes “moment” was the entirety of the 1980s. We were by no means starving but I shudder now at the thought of my entire family being packed into a rusting jalopy of an Opel Kadett or being forced to suffer the indignity of buying “Yellow Pack” non-perishables from Quinnsworth. Or going on your holidays to Tramore in Waterford. That was the way it was.

Perhaps that explains why I have such a distaste for the nostalgia merchants you see online. Why look back to when we had to struggle financially and the measure of a man was how many pints of Harp he could drink in two hours? I would rather appreciate the 5 Series I have now than the deathtraps you saw in Ireland when I was a young fellow. “We were poor but we were happy” doesn’t quite cut it for AvB.

Ya hear that folks...........

5 Series

5 Series

5 Series

5 Series

5 Series

5 Series

*Yawns

Aongus Von Bismarck

harry Bailey esq wrote: »

Turn off that f*@ing immersion!!

Quips about leaving on the immersion have been done to death at this stage. That American 'comedian' made his career out of regaling Irish audiences about the horrors of leaving it on.

Why Irish homes still have an immersion is another thing though. It's an awful way to heat water. In my apartment here in Germany we have hot water 'on tap' 24 hours a day. And lots of it. Not some tiny little cylinder that empties of hot water after a 5 minute shower.

Jen Pigs Fly

My Angela's ashes moment was only a few months ago before Christmas.

In Donegal, 4 hours away from home, lost my job, boss withheld owed wages for weeks and social welfare were being dicks.

Had no money, no heat as we couldn't afford a fire log never mind coal (all his money went towards rent to keep a roof over our heads!) survived on tinned food that was left in the cupboard. Got to the point where we couldn't even get electricity in the house (prepay power) so had tinned beans in a cold, dark house by candle light :rolleyes:

Didn't have the money to go home, and couldn't pay the phone bill so was disconnected.

By the second week, still no money to be seen by either social welfare nor nazi boss, we were running out of food. My boyfriend gave me a tenner for petrol so I could get down to the St Vincent de Paul offices around 20km away.

I went in, explained what was going on, left with a small food hamper, I was happy with that. Could make that stretch until social welfare came through.

Two days later, knock in the door. Two ladies from St Vincent de Paul arrived. We got a huge food hamper, 50e food voucher, another 20e voucher to be used for pre pay power and 3 bags of coal and firefighters.

I forgot what heat was! We had warmth, light and food for the first time in around 2 weeks. It was brilliant!

Finally got my social welfare a week later which helped but still made things hard as there is only so much 100e could stretch.

After Christmas when my 2014 tax credits went through I got more off them, but for those 6/7 weeks it was very difficult.

It was only a small Angela's ashes time ha but it was difficult. Never knew hand washing clothes in cold water was so physically exhausting.

Paramite Pie

I didn't really have one but my grandmother often preferred to cook over the fireplace (there were hooks over the fire to hang large pots) even after we built an extension onto the house to add a kitchen & bathroom.

My mam would revert to this instinctively when we visited too. But the house had plumbing & electricity by then so.....

rainbowdrop

My parents moved to the UK with me when I was just a baby 9months old (late 70s)

Apparently, my first Christmas was spent in one room that my parents rented from a Bangladeshi family. There were no cooking facilities, and my parents had no money to buy ingredients for a Christmas dinner even if there was. Because they were not long in England, they didn't know anyone and family was far away.

Our dinner that year was the only food they had, boiled eggs and toast made by turning the only source of heating in the room, one of those old-fashioned 2 bar electric fires on its side and cooking on it! The Bangladeshi family offered my parents some of their dinner, but my parents wouldn't eat their food as it was very very spicy curry with a full chicken (Inc head and feet) inside the pot, and I couldn't eat it as I was a baby! Lol

My Dad says he will never forget how utterly desolate he felt that day! We were never a rich family growing up, but thank God things were never that bad again........

robindch

Big Wex fan wrote: »

Not quite Angela's Ashes but native born & bread and grew up in the 80's in Ireland in a recession that makes this one look like a miner hiccup.

Grew up in rural Kerry in the 70's and listening to large numbers of people whine and moan about this mini-recession makes me wonder how they'd react if they were somehow magically transported back in time in their own country, just a few short years.

Did anybody see The Rocky Road to Dublin?

suicide_circus

Aongus Von Bismarck wrote: »

I suppose my own Angela’s Ashes “moment” was the entirety of the 1980s. We were by no means starving but I shudder now at the thought of my entire family being packed into a rusting jalopy of an Opel Kadett or being forced to suffer the indignity of buying “Yellow Pack” non-perishables from Quinnsworth. Or going on your holidays to Tramore in Waterford. That was the way it was.

Perhaps that explains why I have such a distaste for the nostalgia merchants you see online. Why look back to when we had to struggle financially and the measure of a man was how many pints of Harp he could drink in two hours? I would rather appreciate the 5 Series I have now than the deathtraps you saw in Ireland when I was a young fellow. “We were poor but we were happy” doesn’t quite cut it for AvB.

Luckily this traumatic period in your life hasn't left you with a massive chip on your shoulders for all to see.

Depraved

anewme wrote: »

Long one so bear with me.

Late 70's, I was eight. Dad worked (low wage) but gambled and/or drank the money. No food usually Tuesdays or Wednesdays( except goody). No phone. No car. No money. No holidays. dressed on the Frawleys clubs. Domestic violence in the home.

Couple of days before Christmas. Saturday morning. Mum and my sister had gone walking to the shops to get some food in over the Christmas. I was at home alone (8 years of age) and watching my favourite film ever (and still is). Willy Wonka (with Gene Wilder) when there was a knock on the door. Who could it be? We were always told not to open the door in case it was "the man" coming to get you!!!

I did not answer but he kept knocking. I looked out the window and saw a white van at the gate and a man at the door with a basket of stuff. once I saw the basket of stuff, my fears disintegrated and I flew to answer the door!

A lovely gentleman asked for my Mum and I said she's gone to the shop. Well can I leave something for you all? He did not have to ask twice. There was a food hamper, a box of toys and a card. (which I later found out contained a very welcome 20 pounds!)

There were toys galore for us two girls but pride of place was a huge yellow teddy bear (with a blue bow) for each of us! There was also a boy doll which fascinated us( look it has a mickey!!!!!, wow)

It turned out my Mum had written to a charity outlining her plight and that was their response. God bless those people.

It's over 35 years ago now, I've done well for myself and try to pay it back where I can, but thinking of that morning( I still remember it like it was yesterday) gets me right there!

I help a few charities here in the Philippines and a few days ago they got a large crate of donated supplies. Canned food and baby supplies mostly which is fantastic. But there was also an old smart phone with some games on it (no sim) & 2 movies. Well the family of 8 that got it thought that Christmas had come early. Grinning ear-to-ear for the day. You should have seen the 6 kids all huddled around the phone trying to figure out the English language games (they only speak Tagalog here).

Someone's old phone, probably sitting idle in a drawer for months will now provide entertainment for a whole family for months to come (and hopefully longer).

I never really appreciated donations to charities until I seen with my own eyes the good that they do. It's amazing!

harry Bailey esq

Aongus Von Bismarck wrote: »

Quips about leaving on the immersion have been done to death at this stage. That American 'comedian' made his career out of regaling Irish audiences about the horrors of leaving it on.

Why Irish homes still have an immersion is another thing though. It's an awful way to heat water. In my apartment here in Germany we have hot water 'on tap' 24 hours a day. And lots of it. Not some tiny little cylinder that empties of hot water after a 5 minute shower.

What comedian? My ma still has one in her house she only uses it in the summer so she doesn't have to turn on the heating.That immersion was installed in the late 80s.Before that,to heat water in the tank we had/still have a fireplace in the kitchen that needed to be lit,regardless of how cold/warm it was outside,sharing baths with my little brother was the norm,great fun for us kiddies,F@*kin nightmare for my folks though,having to buy coal all through the summertime.When we got the immersion we thought it was the bees knees,and were lording it up over the neighbours at the time,well my dad was anyways.

edit: I forgot about that pr1ck,I don't find him particularly annoying,but my missus fancies the arse off him.Therefore he's a pr1ck.

Ghost Buster

anewme wrote: »

Long one so bear with me.

Late 70's, I was eight. Dad worked (low wage) but gambled and/or drank the money. No food usually Tuesdays or Wednesdays( except goody). No phone. No car. No money. No holidays. dressed on the Frawleys clubs. Domestic violence in the home.

Couple of days before Christmas. Saturday morning. Mum and my sister had gone walking to the shops to get some food in over the Christmas. I was at home alone (8 years of age) and watching my favourite film ever (and still is). Willy Wonka (with Gene Wilder) when there was a knock on the door. Who could it be? We were al
ways told not to open the door in case it was "the man" coming to get you!!!

I did not answer but he kept knocking. I looked out the window and saw a white van at the gate and a man at the door with a basket of stuff. once I saw the basket of stuff, my fears disintegrated and I flew to answer the door!

A lovely gentleman asked for my Mum and I said she's gone to the shop. Well can I leave something for you all? He did not have to ask twice. There was a
ood hamper, a box of toys and a card. (which I later found out contained a very welcome 20 pounds!)

There were toys galore for us two girls but pride of place was a huge yellow teddy bear (with a blue bow) for each of us! There was also a boy doll which fascinated us( look it has a mickey!!!!!, wow)

It turned out my Mum had written to a charity outlining her plight and that was their response. God bless those people.

It's over 35 years ago now, I've done well for myself and try to pay it back where I can, but thinking of that morning( I still remember it like it was yesterday) gets me right there!

You only got it cos I was a good child and didnt answer the door.

Egginacup

LDN_Irish wrote: »

Not really that similar, but I was born in London to Irish mother and parents split up when I was young, I lived in an alright part of a quote sh1te area over there but my mother couldn't afford it on one wage. "Repatriated" and ended up homeless and got emergency housed off the council on a new development that nobody wanted to live on. Learnt about chungfellits and chungwans and how to blend in with the Irish proletariat after fighting every fooker in a 3 year age radius for being a Cockney KANT.

I've been a full time mad bastard ever since. Actually love the estate I was raised on now. I'm like one of those LA eses who thinks his ****ty barrio is the best place on Earth.

Mah niggah!

harry Bailey esq

Depraved wrote: »

I help a few charities here in the Philippines

That's a risky username for a chap living in the Philippines squire,do people ever get the wrong idea and think your activities out east aren't as benevolent and charitable as you claim? :pac:

Egginacup

Aongus Von Bismarck wrote: »

I suppose my own Angela’s Ashes “moment” was the entirety of the 1980s. We were by no means starving but I shudder now at the thought of my entire family being packed into a rusting jalopy of an Opel Kadett or being forced to suffer the indignity of buying “Yellow Pack” non-perishables from Quinnsworth. Or going on your holidays to Tramore in Waterford. That was the way it was.

Perhaps that explains why I have such a distaste for the nostalgia merchants you see online. Why look back to when we had to struggle financially and the measure of a man was how many pints of Harp he could drink in two hours? I would rather appreciate the 5 Series I have now than the deathtraps you saw in Ireland when I was a young fellow. “We were poor but we were happy” doesn’t quite cut it for AvB.

What a crock of made up piffle. I don't know any kid growing up in the 80s who was ashamed of buying Thrift or Yellow Pack food items. Did you somehow know that the stuff your parents and neighbours were buying was cheap crap that would attract the derision of others. Did you go to Gonzaga where your peers scoffed at your Yellow Pack crisps and sandwiches as they tucked into their caviar?

There was a running joke in my family, we used to refer to Thrift products as Soviet style brands. Shopping in Superquinn my mother would send me to get certain things. She'd say "run over and get 2 loaves of sliced bread and two half pounds of butter." I'd say "Shall I get 'state bread' and 'state butter'?" ...."Yep" she'd smirk "Get 'state bread' ". It's all good.

At Trinity, I went shopping with a well-heeled young lady from Killiney to get mixers for a booze party. We pooled our cash and bought gallons of "state orange juice" and "state cola" for the vodka instead of coming back with one or two paltry cartons of the branded stuff. Great party and wound up in the cot with this jolly hockey-sticks flower.

I still buy "state milk" and other such items today. Could be the reason why I live in comfort myself.

galah

The scary thing is that my children now grow up with a lot fewer mod cons than i did back in 70ies Germany. Here, we dont have "always on heat and hot water", we have to pay for doctors visits and everything related, and it looks like my kids wont grow up with a functioning public transport system or free university education...

At least in 20 years time they'll have stories of woe and poverty to tell

eviltwin

Having no home to speak of for 6 months and getting by on the kindness of friends. Tough times.

myshirt

Height of the recent recession. Was down to my last 20 grand. Had to cut back the foreign holidays to two a year. Gave up the skiing. Traded in my turtle neck jumper.

Hard looking back. Was pushed to the pin of my collar.

saabsaab

Not quite Angela's Ashes but I spent a year in Dublin 4 in the mid eighties as an apprentice on a scheme on very little cash. Around 65 a week.. Just an existence really. The tiny Victorian bedsit was awful but all I could afford - no toilet or bathroom, was a shared ancient one down the corridor. Window rattled and let the wind in, one gas ring for cooking and an old cracked sink beside it, bed (really a broken up pile one made with old newspapers in piles and planks of wood and an ancient remains of a mattress on top) beside that. No room to swing a cat, if I had a cat. One chair and a rickety old table. I spend as little time as possible there..Walked a lot in my free time around the city to keep warm. Work was boring but at least it was warm and you got to talk to people.

myshirt

What happened the cat?

Gran Hermano

myshirt wrote: »

What happened the cat?

I believe it remains unswung.
Poor redundant cat.

saabsaab

Had to eat the cat!

FluffyAngel

saabsaab

Fluffy Angel, love that sketch..

Cork boy 55

In the summer of seventy six ... I've seen the time I had to drink water from a filthy hoofprint - and I was damm glad to get it!

Depraved

harry Bailey esq wrote: »

That's a risky username for a chap living in the Philippines squire,do people ever get the wrong idea and think your activities out east aren't as benevolent and charitable as you claim? :pac:

My boards username is not related to my charity work.
And it's just a username. It's unique, and tongue-in-cheek, but not a reflection of who I am.

Why don't you come visit and volunteer for 2 weeks and you can judge for yourself

Galwayguy35

galljga1 wrote: »

This sh1t is still the reality for a lot of families today.

Not really, growing up in the 1970s/80s was definitely harder.

Most houses in my area had no central heating, the houses were damp and very few people had a car.

Anyone that was lucky enough to have a job was taxed a lot higher than today and welfare for those with no jobs was worth nothing.