Fruit Picking time

This time of the year always takes me back to my childhood and the long hot summers of child labour in the Strawberry picking fields of Norfolk.( They start working young there) I think I was about 8 the first time my best friend's mum took us fruit picking. I carried on doing it every summer till I was 16, then I could get a proper job! We did all kinds of picking, starting with strawberries, on to Goosberries and Raspberries and finished with Black currants, this would take us almost through the school holidays, usually finishing in time for family holiday at the end of August.

There were several big farms in the area and they all relied on casual labour to get their fruit picked. The biggest farm was an international employer, they had students from all over europe, they put them up in old converted chicken huts, fed and watered them and they would pick from dawn to dusk to make a few pounds to take back to their home countries. Very reminicent of the "Two Caravans" by Marina Lewycha, which I read recently. we only went to that farm when all the others were done.

We would make our sandwiches, I can still smell that awful sandwich spread stuff that looks like vomit, take a few biscuits and a bottle of pop and an old transistor radio. We'd jump on our bikes and ride off to the nearest picking field, could be up to 5 miles away. There was usually a group of women plus us few children.

On arrival at the Strawberry field we'd search out the boss man and ask if we could pick, usually this would be ok and we'd be found some rows to get started on. We'd take a handful of punnets , wrap plastic bags roundour knees and get down in the straw strewn rows. We'd pick and pick till we filled our punnets, usually the first day of the year we'd eat loads too, but to be honest after that the smell and thought of strawberries becomes repulsive so you don't need to eat anymore. If the strawberries were going for jam we'd have to tail them, but if they were going for sale to the public then the stalks are left on. It's harder to pick them taking stalk off as you end up squidging them!


The frustrating thing about being a child picker was they often put you on a row that had already been picked recently, so there are fewer strawberries and you are scuttling up the row on your knees. I'd get home and my knees would be red and sore! We'd always have a radio on and listen to Radio One as we picked, though one year at the International Place I left my tranny in the bush and went to get my fruit weighed when i came back someone had pinched it, I never got it back.

Money wasn't good, but when you were young any money was beter than no money. Some of the women were amazingly fast pickers and they'd earn a fortune. I'd make a £1 or £2 if I was lucky! In later years on a good day I could make about £5-£10 depending on crop. I kept all thr totals in a ledger, I still have it somewhere, I must get it out and have a look!

As a teenager Fashion was all important and impressing the boys a must! Mid 1970's halter necks were very in, so I remember going fruit picking in my old jeans, wearing a black halter neck top and a red and white spotted scarf, thinking I looked "the business"!

One year I had a huge crush on my friend's brother. He didn't usually come picking but this year he did and for whatever reason, I cannot remember my friend wasn't able to come so me and Paul went together. We biked there together, we shared a row together, we had our lunch together. I felt so sick with fancying him, I couldn't eat a thing! I nearly swooned when our hands touched through the black current bush!

The next day my friend was back and she could see there was "something going on" between the 2 of us and she was understandably annoyed. For a few days I was totally besotted with Paul, but then he stopped coming, slowly the sicky feeling subsided and I started eating again, I got over him and moved on!

Fruit picking fields and Love seemed to go hand in hand. I remember my other friend's eldest sister used to come , she never did much picking as her motorbike boyfriend used to come too and they just find a quiet place in the field to make out! Till the boss came along and shouted at them to get back to work!

The sun always shone every summer I'm sure of it. I guess if it was raining we just didn't go. But it did always seem to be hot and I'd burn myself specially wearing my halter neck tops!!

One summer '76, was extrememly hot, but then '77 was loads of thunderstorms, so we'd go picking but end up having to shelter as the rain pelted down. I must admit by '77 I was finding it all rather a bore and was desperate to get a proper job, so that year, we did skive off , just me and my friend Sally, we'd go off on our bikes and go to the beach or visit churches, we liked churches, we'd go round the grave yards reading the headstones. didn't earn much that summer. But I didn't have a great need either, two years earlier I'd worked really hard to save money to buy my pony a new saddle but on 31 December 76 he died and my life as I knew came to an end.

But as my uncle said at the time " You'll have more time for boys now" and of course he was right, but it didn't take the pain away.