Age 13. Mum didn’t allow us to have coffee until then. A mild coffee for afternoon tea, with a biscuit (read ‘cookie’) that most likely I baked on the previous Saturday. Mostly my sisters left that task to me. And homemade icecream, with the most unusual variations.
She also created a tradition to buy us a good watch for our thirteenth birthdays. We were discouraged from reading the moderate (and at that time) erudite newspaper. We didn’t have television before I was fifteen. Our first (black-and-white) TV was a gift from the diocesan Irish parish priest who came to dinner every second Saturday night, after which I’d hope we could get to watch 77 Sunset Strip before Dad switched to the documentary program Four Corners to deflect us from the frivolous show. We never dreamed of objecting, but I’m sure my face did. Aside from that, none of us had any rebellion over our upbringing as perhaps many later families would have experienced. What was, was.
There were no mobile phones and no internet. There was Encyclopedia Britannicia…books.
Lots of innocent books and some religious books. The world hasn’t changed in some ways, in others, it has changed enormously.
We were quite sheltered. The real world contained a lot of shocks.