Some sounds are typical:
the tinny mechanical rendition of Greensleeves from a distant ice-cream van. (I can almost feel the sticky penny in my hot little hand as I think about sitting on the edge of the kerb waiting for the van to arrive)
Raindrops tumbling heavily onto a windowsill
The school bell
Winds rippling through trees
The silence white world of snow
More specific to my world:
Sunday League football. Our garden bordered onto a 26 acre plot of land with football pitches, cricket pavilion and wooded dell. On Sunday mornings I rose to the sound of footballs being booted and men shouting.
Arguments
Grandma sweeping the garden path
My dad counting money when he was an insurance man
The rumble of a train line
Myself. Singing.
The sound of late night television programmes leaking up from the living room to my bedroom. I once lay on the landing and cried when my babysitter wouldn't let me watch The Sweeney.
Tales of the Unexpected elicited a similar response.
This tune always made me feel like crying...
Schools and colleges programmes are much cooler now than they were at the time.
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