We don't get much time nowadays to sit and ponder.

It’s not that we don’t want to, but life seems to gobble up the hours.

But we do occasionally take time out to relax and think – about life past, present and future.

I tend to do so when there’s not much on radio or TV and especially round about Christmas. I’ve got a birthday in December, so this is the time when I tot up the years and ponder about the passage of time.

But then I suppose we all do so at some time or other.

Recently I have been thinking about those things we used to take for granted which have disappeared.

When, I asked myself, did I last see a travelling knife sharpener come down the road?

You know, I can’t quite remember! I know that in my young days they could be seen plying their trade in the streets – whatever the weather – operating a small grindstone which was sited either in the back of a small van or stood in the road.

I don’t know if any industrial tool sharpeners still exist, but I doubt if many people still want to have their knives or scissors sharpened in the road outside their houses.

Unless, of course, you know any different?

I used to love a glass or two of Dandelion and Burdock.

I acquired the taste when I used to spend part of my school holidays with relatives who lived on a housing estate just outside Bangor, North Wales.

The regular visit of the lemonade van was eagerly awaited by all the kids in the area.

It was nothing that couldn’t be bought from the small shop some 100 yards away – but, for some reason the bottles of pop bought from the lemonade van were, for us kids, special.

Don’t ask me why.

I have bought a bottle of D&B recently, but it doesn’t taste the same.

And I could say the same for bottles of Newcastle Brown! I used to like Newky Brown – I discovered it in my 20s in the days when I used to frequent the many folk clubs on Merseyside – where it was a favourite folkies’ tipple.

I was most put out when I came to this part of the world back in the late 1960s and discovered that no pubs in the area seemed to stock Newcastle Brown.

But Newcastle Brown doesn’t taste the same any more – nor does Guinness!

But then I’ve always thought that Guinness only tastes like Guinness if you drink it in Ireland!

If you have just run out of tea and I think that here I’m talking about an age before teabags, you could of course, often at whatever hour, just pop round to your nearby corner shop.

Morning, noon or night, who could imagine going through a meal without a cup of tea?

I know that a few still do exist, but do you still have your friendly, open almost all hours, local corner shop? I bet you don’t.

Somewhere down the years, most of them seem to have disappeared.

Time for breakfast! Fancy a few rashers of bacon?

There was no need to keep them stored away in a cupboard or fridge – all you had to do was to pop round to the corner shop, which in many ways used to act as a street’s larder.

At that time many people didn’t have a fridge.

Just look back at the newspaper adverts of 50 years ago to see what a major purchase they were.

Are there many local chandlers’ shops around nowadays?

I can remember our local shop in Birkenhead.

It used to be a shop selling and repairing bicycles, but it ended up doing a lot more.

You went there with your empty container to buy paraffin.

Older readers will remember that it was unusual to get through the night without an electricity power cut – for a few minutes – or more.

Most houses had somewhere easily accessible to store their storm lanterns and, in the case of cold weather, paraffin heaters.

It wasn’t all good back in the old days!

Oh, and whatever happened to Bob-a-Job weeks?

These seem to have disappeared – unless again, you know any different!

To end these nostalgic ramblings, I can remember how much we young primary school kids looked forward to the annual Christmas party.

I really don’t know how the school managed to put on such a spread as this was in the age of rationing.

And the one thing which most delighted us at that time was jelly, plus, of course, ice cream.

Pleasant memories.