Times change, McGrath. One of my early memories is pig-killing time at Grandad's allotment, this is urban Nuneaton, Warwickshire, circa 1947, drawing and butchering and I got the bladder to kick around. The rest of the allotment was solid pig-food, cabbage, parsnips, etc. He also kept chickens in his (council-house) back garden and went around with a barrow to collect peelings for pig-swill. An farm labourer until he married Nan. We never went hungry, and he knew where all the mushrooms grew.

When I went back there 5 years ago, it was a 'distressed' area, and half the houses were boarded up. Sad.