I was born 60 years ago today in my grandparent’s small, two-up, two-down Victorian terrace on Albert Street, Eastwood. The house was part of a block with Scargill Street, Victoria Street and Princes Street forming the other sides to the ‘square’, as it was called. The house was demolished years ago, but I can still remember the tin bath hanging outside, the ‘copper’, also outside, which was the only way of heating water for the house, and the black iron kitchen ‘range’, which was the source of heating for the house and was where all the food was cooked. There [Read more]