THE school holidays have just begun and it brings back memories of my own childhood, and how we filled the six weeks of summer.

I don’t recall having anything other than happy memories.

Mum would organise various trips out, picnics, walks in the wood or activities at home to keep us entertained.

I recall one summer collecting dozens of elderflower plants, snipping them from bushes wherever we could find them, to make an elderflower cordial.

I’d stretch up high to reach those less likely to be contaminated, and popped them in a plastic bag, taking great delight as it bulged with our free treasure.

When we took them home, we boiled them in sugar, if I remember correctly, before passing the liquid through tea-towels to sieve out all the dirt and bugs.

I was so proud and delighted with the finished product, and it was offered to anyone who came round with much enthusiasm.

There was always time to play with our friends outside, and there was a big group of us who would gather on the green across the road.

Or we’d invite all our friends round for a mass water fight – possibly the most fun you could have as a child.

Mum would save up empty Fairy Liquid bottles for us, which made the perfect water gun, shooting much further than the shop-bought ones some of our friends had.

Looking back, I was always encouraged to develop my imagination and own ideas.

I remember asking one day if I could organise a garden party for our neighbours, and my Mum said yes straight away.

It gave me something to work towards as I prepared games and activities for everyone to enjoy, and baked cakes.

Everyone was involved, and my brothers ‘entertained’ our guests, performing in a band they had formed with a friend.

Then there were holidays away, when as a family of six we would pack everything up in the car, trailer tent attached to the back and head somewhere, such as Dorset, for a week.

Dad would take time off work to join us.

I always passed the time in the car reading, and remember making my way through the entire copy of Matilda by Roald Dahl on one journey.

I was lucky never to suffer from car sickness, unlike my sister who found it impossible to read whilst travelling.

When we arrived, tired from the journey, my sister, two brothers and I would be instructed by our Dad to hold up poles as he took charge of erecting the tent, a task which often became slightly fraught!

Then Mum would cook dinner using a tiny hob.

We would moan and argue over whose turn it was to wash up, but I realise now that it was my parents who had the hard work - packing, driving, cooking etc.

We went crab fishing, and Dad would show us how to attach bait to the hook before dangling it into the water, waiting patiently for a gentle tug below then carefully reeling it in so as not to lose the crab clinging on.

Dad would unhook them and pop them in a bucket of water, and once finished, we’d all go to the beach to release them and watch them scuttle back into the water.

I love to reminisce about my childhood, I could talk forever about the things we did.

They were some of the happiest days of my life, and I’m so grateful to my parents, and siblings, for that.