I THINK of myself as belonging to a very select group of people. There are a lot of us around but our like will sadly never be seen again.

For I am a former Woolworth's Saturday girl; a part-time purveyor of pick'n'mix, seed potato sorter, floor sweeper and wannabe DJ - all "skills" I learnt while clad in an electric-shock-inducing nylon overall in the early 1980s.

I worked in Ulverston Woolies, sadly long gone - like all the other Woolies in the nation - and I loved every minute of it for the four or more years I worked there, earning (if my memory is correct) somewhere around £8 a day.

Work and pensions secretary Esther McVey last week called for the return of the Saturday job, on the grounds that teenage employment is important if Britain is to provide more resilient home-grown workers after Brexit.

While I feel sure there are already plenty of toiling teenagers around already (our morning newspapers, for instance, have been delivered by a veritable army of mainly cheerful young workers over the years), I'm all in favour of encouraging even more of them to get out and experience the world of work.

Having a Saturday job (or newspaper round or holiday job) is one of the great character builders for future generations of workers; and those enterprising youths who take on a menial job (for it is the dogsbody nature of the Saturday job which gives it its true worth) carry a work ethic with them into the world of adult employment.

Being bossed around by our elders to whom we can't answer back is good for the emerging soul of our youngsters. It is a lesson well worth learning that, while as offspring you may be able to give cheek to your parents, refuse to to do what you've been asked to and loll around indulging in your own desires - and still get pocket money handed out, the world of work is very different. And rightly so.

The moment I got my Saturday job in Woolies, my parents stopped giving me any pocket money. If I wanted to buy the lastest leg warmers, suede ankle boots and pirate shirts, I would have to earn the money myself. So I did.

As Saturday jobs go, Woolies was up there with the best. You could "test" pick'n'mix to your heart's (or at least your stomach's) content, slurp up the dregs of the Slush Puppy machine when it was due for refilling - I seem to remember I had an almost permanently blue tongue - and inflict your choice of music on punters when it was your turn to man the record counter.

I'm sure there are hundreds of Ulverstonians who were forever put off Simon and Garfunkel thanks to me playing their Collected Works LP on a more or less permanent loop during most of 1981.

But the best thing about Saturday jobs for teenagers is that it forces you to interact with your elders; to have discussions which aren't all about yourself; and, best of all, to serve the public - not in an oppressed or obsequious way, but in a respectful way which should stand you in good stead when your emerge, blinking, into the wide world after leaving full-time education.

There is no question that the number of young people with Saturday jobs has dwindled over the years. Some figures put the decline at a worrying 60 per cent. Parents (and potential employers) are more risk averse than 30 or 40 years ago - and legislation which didn't exist then makes it more onerous to take on casual, teenage labour.

But the Saturday job should indeed be encouraged more. As we head towards Brexit, we need as many of our young people as possible to be match-fit for the working years that lie ahead.

Time-keeping, taking orders and being a bit of a drudge does no teenager any harm - and it instils in our youngsters the team spirit that will stand them in very good stead in later life.

I loved my Saturday job and I hope that the latest drive to encourage more teenagers to get a taste of the working world is successful.

I certainly got a lot from my own time as a Saturday girl. I can still taste those pick'n'mix fudges and Slush Puppies now.

LED street lighting is not such a bright idea

ARE our eyes being damaged by the new generation of LED street lighting? Public Health England suspects so, saying this week that many people find them “uncomfortable” and that they may be causing long-term damage to our retinas. I don’t know about the health implications, but LED street lights are certainly causing damage to plenty of people’s sensibilities. Frankly, they’re horrible. Our village has recently seen a relentless march of stark white street lighting replacing the softer, orange lamps which we used to have. The lampposts themselves are functional to the point of ugly – and the “glow” the lamps cast off is about as inviting as a fridge light (and feels just as cold). The LED lighting is being installed by increasing numbers of councils on the grounds of economy and energy efficiency. Laudable enough, of course, but it certainly doesn’t enhance the aesthetics of our local environments. It’s bad enough that our streets are littered with excessive signage, bollards, speed bumps and the like. Having to put up with harsh overhead street lighting as well is just, well, over the top.

A turn for the worse in class

THE annual conference of the National Union of Teachers in Brighton has highlighted a horrible trend in our youngsters. Increasing numbers of little learners are “swiping” on books in an attempt to turn their pages – so immersed are our children in the use of mobile phones and tablets. Delegates at the NUT conference described the trend as “disturbing”, with children coming into reception classes and nursery schools unable to understand how to turn the pages of books. How very sad. Although I’m a great fan of the Kindle electronic reader for its convenience and reading-in-bed-while-hubby-snores opportunities, nothing – but nothing – can replace the pleasure of reading a proper book. A delegate at the conference, Jennifer Bhambri-Lyte, spoke passionately during a debate on libraries about the the joys of snuggling up with a book, cuddling up to mum, turning the pages and gazing at the pictures. That sums up the very essence of what childhood reading should be about. It’s about discovering the joys of literature and the love of books – not swiping at a screen. Let’s hope the NUT takes note – and puts itself at the heart of a resurgence in our love of libraries.