When we were children my sister and I were given shiny sixpences for our pocket money each Saturday morning. That’s 6d not 6p! My Dad used to joke that he’d minted them freshly in his greenhouse, but I knew that he really dug up pennies and halfpennies instead, as they were the same copper-brown colour as the Fenland soil in our vegetable garden.
“It takes all sorts!” my Dad used to say - especially when someone had behaved oddly - but then he would do, given his love of Liquorice allsorts.
‘Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
I am a writer and historian with a passion for sweets and football (not necessarily in that order!). I write fiction and non-fiction and, after working in the media for over 30 years, now run a sweet shop with my wife, Michelle, trading as Mr Simms Worcester. I also write about the history of sweets in a series of blog posts: 'A Funny Thing Happened on the way to the Sweet Shop.'