Not surprisingly as a child of 8, going on 9, I had no pre-conceived notion of what to expect when we arrived in London. All I knew is that Queen Elizabeth II 's coronation had occurred 4 days before we arrived. The city was still decked out in bunting and Union Jacks and all manner of fancy decorations. It looked lovely to a young child's eye.
However, six months after arriving we moved into our first (and only,) home in London.
It was about 900 square feet; no basement, no attic as livable floor space. It was exciting nonetheless.
Outside, on the pavement, (sidewalk,) beside a street lamp stood the garbage can for "pigs swill" as the neighbours told us. In 1953, a war measures attempt for the UK to be more self-reliant, lots of communities still had this productivity item. A truck came along and emptied it regularly for distribution to Farmers to supplement live stock feed.
I don't remember these bins, but waste food from school lunches was definitely collected for pig food. I'm now the only one left who can remember epic tragedy of ' the day I lost the ration book'. Faced with potential disaster the family turned out to re-trace my steps. Luckily we found it where it had fallen from my pocket. Otherwise we'd have gone hungry for a month.
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