(19-03-2019 17:41 )GreenMachine Wrote: Climbing over, under on and up things is something I remember. We didn't have to worry about where it was just tried where possible to be careful but that was the excitement. Trees, statues, hills, old buildings(great for exploring) and just getting into scrapes(not running home to Mum to have cuddle and be mollycoddled as today's kids are) It was a real 'jumpers for goalposts' time, sometimes you improvised with things and carrying a small penknife wasn't seen as a weapon but a useful tool. Comics used to give you survival techniques, it was real boys own stuff(and some girls too) and exploring probably shaped the person you would grow up to be. It wasn't all great and yes we did have accidents but we learnt from our mistakes. Joining clubs or even going into the Cubs taught you other skills.
In Cubs we learnt how to build a fire from scratch and then how to cook something. I took this outside to my garden where we once had a ditch and set up a small barbecue - a wire frame balanced on bricks with the intention of cooking a poached egg and beans. The beans went well as did the fire(keeping some water around to douse it if it got out of hand) but unfortunately when I put the egg into the poacher it took ages to cook but then I checked the holder and it had melted! I had forgotten the first thing when poaching-ADD WATER INTO THE PAN FIRST!
Oops! my mother was not happy I had ruined the holder. Like I said we learn from our mistakes. Another example of LIVING! 
You’ve reminded me of something I did in 1978. It was at Butlins Pwllheli in North Wales, we were staying in the self catering chalets and one of the things that guests were supplied with was one of those old style kettles that would whistle when the kettle was boiling.
To heat the water in the kettle you had to fill it then put it on the electric cooker. These cookers didn’t have rings on them, more like a circular heating pad. Anyways, for whatever reason I was in the chalet on my tod and had decided to make a cup of tea. So soft arse here turned on the cooker heating pad...without checking there was water in the sodding kettle! Few minutes went by...then I think what gives..? Smoke coming from the cooker, turned out the base of the kettle which must have been as thin as tissue paper had melted onto the heating pad.
When the mater and pater discovered what I’d done they collectively rolled their eyes and I clearly remember my Dad coming out with a huge despairing sigh that seemed to go on forever. I had to get the melted gunk off this heating pad with a load of Brillo pads, and a lot of inward cursing.