That, and my wife’s family also suffer from the “can’t spend longer than 2 minutes on the telephone” syndrome. Or is it a disease as well?

That, and my wife’s family also suffer from the “can’t spend longer than 2 minutes on the telephone” syndrome. Or is it a disease as well?

When I was a small child it was the done thing for most English mothers, including mine, to stick their kids outside in the garden all year round for Fresh Air, unless it was actually raining. My sister and I were made to play outside in the garden from breakfast until lunchtime, and then again until teatime, even in December. I can still remember the sound of Radio 2 coming through the open kitchen window, and the song ‘Sealed with a Kiss’ always brings this memory back to me. I hate listening to the Radio to this day.

I also remember my mum would stick my baby brother in his pram out on the porch for at least an hour every morning (well wrapped up, of course) and again in the afternoon. Other mums did the same. They don’t do it now because of other people nicking babies.

My mum was fanatical about this thing Fresh Air and its ability to prevent illnesses. She may have been right, I don’t know; we still got all the usual childhood ones. The overriding emotion which comes back to me now is the feeling of being stranded. We used to say we needed a wee even when we didn’t, just so we could go back inside for a few minutes.

Incidentally, in India people were fine about bus windows being opened, though it didn’t make much difference as it was so hot regardless. I don’t recall anywhere in India having air conditioning.

When I was a small child it was the done thing for most English mothers, including mine, to stick their kids outside in the garden all year round for Fresh Air, unless it was actually raining. My sister and I were made to play outside in the garden from breakfast until lunchtime, and then again until teatime, even in December. I can still remember the sound of Radio 2 coming through the open kitchen window, and the song ‘Sealed with a Kiss’ always brings this memory back to me. I hate listening to the Radio to this day.

I also remember my mum would stick my baby brother in his pram out on the porch for at least an hour every morning (well wrapped up, of course) and again in the afternoon. Other mums did the same. They don’t do it now because of other people nicking babies.

My mum was fanatical about this thing Fresh Air and its ability to prevent illnesses. She may have been right, I don’t know; we still got all the usual childhood ones. The overriding emotion which comes back to me now is the feeling of being stranded. We used to say we needed a wee even when we didn’t, just so we could go back inside for a few minutes.

Incidentally, in India people were fine about bus windows being opened, though it didn’t make much difference as it was so hot regardless. I don’t recall anywhere in India having air conditioning.