I grew up in Dunblane in the 1970s: a very small person at Dunblane Primary School, I was second youngest in the class. We lived in Murdoch Terrace just across from the school field. Beyond that was hillside: no Wallace Road, no Anchorscross, no bypass ! Just coos I think. And maybe a bull … dont wear red. The field next to it (now Buchan Drive) was a corn field I think. Great for hide n seek.
The hill at the back of Murdoch Terrace was great for sledging , unless you went flying into the barbed wire fence at the bottom. That was a sair yin.
There was no Tesco or Markies in Dunblane either. The fruit van and fish van both came round once a week and my maw would go to Bennetts for mince, beef olives and scotch pies. Saturday morning I would get my pocket money, walk down the high street to buy Roy of the Rovers and get my football cards. My folks would shop in the high street too: I mind my dad had to move his Morris Oxford to let a bus through.
My dads Morris Oxford may hold an unofficial world record when it took an entire football team to Doune. We were all young lads but it’s still an impressive feat.
Sunday morning I got sent to Ramzans for the Sunday Post. I would leave my bike roond the corner and run in to buy the paper. If I left it outside the shop someone would take it and I would be chasing after them to try get it back.
My bike was a skeleton of a thing. It was nicknamed ‘The Wreck’. I would cycle as fast as I could then jump off and see how far it could go on it’s own. Nae Netflix in thae days: this was our entertainment.
Summer holidays were spent playing in the school field, the skinny woods or doon the Lechills. One summer we played constantly on the putting green at Millrow. We also went picking strawberries at Auchenteck Farm. I earned £3.50 one day ! Some of the older lads put stones at the bottom of their punnets to help at the weigh in but I was too feart. October holidays was tattie howking at Hillside Farm. That was hard work. Both farmhouses are now luxury homes. Later in the 80s I went caddying in the summer at Gleneagles, got the train up, hid in the toilet to avoid the guard.
Another farm visited was Stockbridge on the Doune road. We would play in the barn, cats everywhere. I think thats how my sister came home one day with a pet lamb, Skippy. We kept Skippy in the garden for one summer. I can mind our dog sitting at the garden gate waiting to get back in and Skippy ran up and heid butted the gate open.Sheeps are neds.
So, these are my simple childhood memories. They may differ from yours coz my memory is…ach you know…whatsitagain…pish!