WHEN wondering what would constitute an antique it seems the best place to check would be the internet — a thoroughly modern method of communication and research which we did not have at our disposal in the 1940s, 50s, 60s and 70s.

In fact in those days researching anything would rely on either a magnificent brain, an encyclopaedia stuffed with information or a library with shelf after shelf of books.

So when our children and grandchildren mourn the items they recall with fondness from their early years what will it be? Can technology really gallop ahead at such an incredible pace as it has in the past 50, 60 or 70 years.

Our grandparents could never have imagined a world where we could browse the web, contact each other by typing numbers into a mobile telephone and be able to see each other on a computer screen when thousands of miles away.

So what would youngsters today make of some of the things we can recall from our youth?

Even recalling a time when digital cameras had not been invented seems alien to small children today — a roll of film would certainly puzzle most four-year-olds.

Imagine popping things into a time capsule to be opened in 100 years.

While time capsules filled 50 years ago and opened today would be fairly simple to understand (books, magazines and newspapers could be easily read) there would be little point in including a lap top as how on earth would you be able to read that unless you included the charger and it was still able to function after an inordinate amount of time underground.

We thought it would be interesting to discuss some of the items we recalled from our childhood that might fox youngsters today.

These are memories of a 50 something who grew up in the 1960s and 70s.

Firstly what about sitting at a wooden desk with an ink well. Many of us will recall desks lined up in classrooms — some will even have used the ink wells.

Also in schools were large brass bells rung to indicate it was lunchtime or "play time". Today it is more likely to be an electronic version that alerts youngsters to their exit from the classroom.

In the yard we played with pieces of elastic (well the girls did) tied around our ankles and we called it elastic skipping.

We had outside toilets (freezing cold in the winter) and our classrooms were, generally, draughty.

When we got home we would warm ourselves in front of the coal fire (no central heating in those days) and frost would form on the inside of window panes, never mind the outside.

We collected cigarette cards and marbles (there were so many different colours and designs) and children's television was not a round the clock thing but viewable at specific times.

We read books in paper form (not on electronic machines) and getting the latest Enid Blyton from the library was a huge thrill.

Washing machines were twin tubs not front loaders and there was no such thing as a tumble dryer at home.

The pantry was used to keep milk cool — imagine life without a fridge or freezer! — and wash day was, as the name suggests, a nominated day in the week.

We did not have the new fangled gadgets the modern family has today. Vacuum cleaners were not designed to pick up pet hair, we did not have hand-held versions and carpets were often not fitted and could be taken up to be beaten rather than vacuumed.

We had a telephone at home but it remained fixed to the wall so you sat where your telephone was fitted and there was no question of taking it out of the house.

Going to the pictures was a treat, as was the theatre and dining out was virtually unheard of.

We did not eat pizza or curry. Meals were traditional and school dinners would contain meat, potatoes and vegetables pretty much every day. Lumpy custard and "frog spawn", otherwise known as tapioca were on the menu.

Most families did not have a car so public transport was well used. There are children today who have never been on a bus and have only seen trains on television or at the cinema (we called it the pictures).

Sundays were not spent shopping (shops were not open) and Christmas was not the extravaganza of present giving it is today. You got a main present and perhaps a few smaller gifts but you did not feel deprived — it was exciting as all the family would come round for the day.

We played out from morning until night in the school holidays (popping back for a rushed down meal in between) and got up to all sorts of mischief that our parents never found out about.

We made up our own games because we did not have computers or games consoles. We did not need to be told to take exercise because we were getting that when we rushed about the local streets, knocking on doors and gathering our pals for the latest adventure.

There was no such thing as risk assessment (if there had been no doubt our parents would never have let us out of the door as climbing trees was pretty much part of the curriculum for most youngsters in the 1960s) and without a mobile phone our parents would have no way to contact us during the day.

We survived though and having lived in a technology deprived world we do not see it through rose-coloured glasses but certainly do not feel we were short-changed.

Today's youngsters will be able to talk to their own children about the wonderful advances in computers they have seen but ask them how many times they jumped across a stream and almost fell in, or played so long on the park it went dark and they got a roasting from their mum when they finally trotted home then it is likely the answer will be never.

So which really was the most deprived childhood?

Do you have childhood memories you can share with other Looking Back readers?

If so do get in touch with Gayle McBain on 01204 537269 or email gayle.mcbain@nqnw.co.uk