Is it my imagination or are Easter eggs going out of fashion? When I think about it, I suppose that things are just the same, it’s probably because since lockdown I’ve changed my shopping habits. In fact, since lockdown I’ve changed most of my habits, but that’s another story.

Our family had always celebrated Easter as an important date on the Christian calendar and mother had always been involved with the Pulrose Methodist Church and particularly with the Sunday school and the young scholars.

The Pully Methodists were led by Sister Eleanor who was determined to maintain the strict Methodist standards that she was obviously used to, and the Sunday school superintendent, Mr Alan Killip whose day job as a serving police officer meant he was a well-respected leader of the children.

Coincidentally, the Sunday school superintendent rose through the professional ranks to become police superintendent in command of the local force.

Easter was a busy time in the church. The traditional services were always well attended and the highlight for the children, the Easter picnic, was guaranteed to be blessed with good weather.

It’s a strange thing, isn’t it, that you only remember the good weather events? Another coincidental miracle is that, to a young child, these special days seemed to have run on for years, when in actual fact, after two or three Easter picnics, you would be far too old for such childish excitements.

The usual Easter routine was church for the adults on Good Friday, church for all ages and ranks on Easter Sunday and the big event on Easter Monday.

Now just as a point of interest, Mother was a very religious lady and if a resident of Cedar Grove (our street) had passed away, our curtains were always drawn on the day of the funeral.

Number 52 (us) always paid the same respect to Jesus on Good Friday.

I never heard of any similar invitation being issued for Easter Monday.

The Pully picnic was held on the Monday in Port Soderick Glen. Some folk walked and some folk travelled by train. No-one owned a car.

Everyone brought their own food, but no-one would be forgotten. Times really were hard.

Pulrose was more of a community than many such estates.

It was built to re-house several ready-made groups and families that the Douglas Corporation were moving from what could only be described as slums.

It must have seemed like a miracle to the new residents. Houses with three bedrooms, and one toilet per house, hot and cold water on tap, and how about electric lights in every room.

I was the first-born of the Cowin family and we moved into Pulrose before I was one year old. My first school was the aptly named Sunshine School.

Our streets were wide and traffic-free, and we could play street games with marbles, hoops and sticks, and collect chestnuts from the trees that grew on Peel Road.

Mother was soon to join in and take part in all of the community affairs. There was always something due to happen. It could be a concert, a jumble sale or an Easter picnic.

For the picnics she would organise the games, the food and drink, and the decorated hard-boiled eggs for the egg race.

It is just coming to light how much that she actually did for so many Pully kids. And more to the point, it makes me proud to hear from them just how much those young people appreciated it.

Pully folk and their offspring, the people and the community of Pulrose, taught me many things, and I will always be grateful.

See you all in Port Soderick Glen on Monday.