File:Crookes, Crookes - geograph.org.uk - 1168085.jpg

English: Crookes, Crookes Just up the road from the post office is this block of terraced houses. Rather than stagger them in height on this slightly sloping ground, they have all been built level with one another, which has meant the use of an ever increasing height in steps at the front doors. Just beyond the red car, the pavement has been extended out into the road to create a parking area for these houses. Outside the Dental Surgery trees have been planted and a litter bin has been installed.

Across the road, just above the Wesley Hall Methodist Church, is a patch of greenery where in 1935 there once stood a Corn Dealers and a Dentists. This building later sold pikelets and oatcakes, the latter being a particular favourite of mine.

Between where the new build is now and the Ball Inn, there used to be terraced houses and shops. In 1965, the shops included a double–fronted shop, which at 155/157 was A Revill’s Grocers Shop and at 163 Bertha Tyler’s Herbalist Shop. During the ‘50s, on occasional Sundays, I used to be sent to the grocers shop because we had run out of something or other. The laws about selling things on a Sunday were very peculiar back then. They would probably allow me to buy a loaf of bread and a packet of cigarettes, but not a bar of soap, or something like that.

Bertha’s Herbalist shop was a pokey little place. To the left, as you walked in, was an old school type bench. Ahead was a counter, a portion of which lifted for the shopkeeper to get through either way. Beyond it was the back room. The wall between and the one to the right was shelved and contained many stone and glass jars of herbs and spices. The counter continued to the right in an L–shape. The air was filled with a mixture of the smell of cinnamon, liquorice, sarsaparilla and Vimto. As a lad, I often went in on a cold winter’s night, for a warm Vimto. The shopkeeper went into the back room to boil the kettle.