My father, Ronald Jobling, was Minister at Fulwood from August 1957 until August 1963, and I think of the Manse at 85, Victoria Road, as my childhood home. I was delighted to be asked for some memories of our time at Fulwood and send to all the current Fulwood Community my best wishes, and congratulate them on this year’s important anniversary.

Dry rot played a big part in our time at Fulwood! I recall being taken into the corridor leading to the Sunday School, and the floors were all up. There was a strong smell of damp and I was shown the fungus growing. "This is what dry rot looks like," I was told.

Playing around the Sunday School one Saturday morning, I climbed through the serving hatch from the Beginners’ Room into the kitchen. Connie Bacon was there with several other ladies. I didn’t take any notice when they told me not to climb any further, onto the table leaf, with cups and saucers set out for some forthcoming event. Of course, it collapsed and I made a swift descent amid pieces of china. There were many breakages. "Don’t tell Daddy," I pleaded, and Mrs Bacon promised she wouldn’t. Many years later I asked her if she remembered the incident. "Yes," she said, "and we never did tell your father."

I enjoyed my time as a Brownie, with Mrs Marr as Brown Owl and Pat Bacon as Tawny Owl. I was in the Chaffinch Six. One day, at Brownies, we found a magazine in the Primary Room and some older girls showed me an article claiming the world would end the following Friday, at about four o’clock. Friday came and I arrived home at about ten minutes to four to find my mother, grandmother and great aunt sitting in the garden. I was very frightened as I told them about the world being about to end. They said they didn’t think it would and, fortunately, they were proved to be right!

One thing I really enjoyed at Brownies was going into the little room at the end of the hall, by the front porch, and climbing up a pile of mattresses. They reached almost to the ceiling, and were very wobbly, so it was great fun! I also remember taking part in an event at the Public Hall for some Brownie anniversary. We had to wear white dresses, and were ‘candles’!

Eventually I graduated to Guides; Mrs Butterworth (NO - not the present one!) was Guide Captain. On one occasion I had to carry the Union Jack in a parade service: the drill was that when the Blessing was given, the flag-bearer had to lower their flag. However, I was standing too far forward and the tassels on my flag went into my father’s face while he was saying the Benediction – much to the amusement of the congregation!

My father enjoyed thinking up Children’s Addresses, and one series revolved around the question, "What have I got in my pocket?" After various suggestions had been made, I put up my hand and said, "A hole!" I was not correct. Another Sunday the children were invited to complete a couplet, "If I were king of Timbucktoo......" This produced some good rhymes. I recall, "If I were king of Timbucktoo, I’d put my teachers in the zoo!" My father’s favourite, and one he used as an illustration in subsequent re-tellings of the story, was made up by one of the Curtis boys, Victor or Andrew: "If I were king of Timbucktoo, I’d have good grub and my brother would too."

Happy days!