Open Writing

The other day my missus asked me to throw out some old newspapers. My mind went back to when I was a lad. In those days nobody ever threw away old newspapers. They were precious, representing money, food and goods.

My brothers and I collected old newspapers. We took a pile of them to the local chippy, there to be given either tuppence or a bag of chips. We usually opted for the bag of chips.

The bloke who ran the chippy, seeing that there were four of us, would throw in lots of tasty scraps as well. We shared these out amongst ourselves, saving a few for our sister who had helped to tie up the newspapers.

We never handed over all the newspapers we had collected. Some were needed for our backyard toilet. My aunt carefully sliced their pages with a long knife, ending up with a large pile of small squares. These were threaded onto string and then hung from a nail in the toilet wall.

Besides having these bits of newspaper handy for the obvious reason, they could also be read. And if you were very lucky you might get a complete story.

Some of the old newspapers were screwed up and placed, along with a few sticks and bits of coal, in our fire grate. When the newspaper twists had been lit a large sheet of newspaper was held over the fire opening so that it would draw and burn merrily. Sometimes this sheet of newspaper would itself catch fire and would have to be hurriedly guided into the grate before it damaged the rest of the house.

And there were still other uses for old newspapers. After washing a floor my aunt would put down newspapers so that our muddy shoes would not dirty the area she had just cleaned. Those newspaper were gathered up, neatly folded and placed in a buket near the fire, to serve as fire lighters in the morning.

We used newspapers to get the mud of our shoes in the back yard, and newspaper with vinegar on to clean the windows.

We didn't have to be told in those days to recycle newspapers.