There was much less to do - I remember sitting around a lot on rainy days playing board games and cards, aunts and grandparents would entertain you with endless card games. We didn't see much of our fathers, they worked all day and Saturday mornings and then Saturday afternoon was off playing with their mates, he seemed to play some sort of sport every Saturday so we only saw him on Sundays and the annual short summer holiday.
My mum was busy round the house so we would mooch off with friends - one of the reasons I got into wood work, was for something interesting to do.
We were unsupervised and got into all sorts of scrapes and I'm amazed not more got injured, although my brother managed to break two arms, his back his forehead, cut his leg with a chainsaw and get glass in his backside, all on separate occasions and I had a fair few stitches including getting a bit of branch through my foot.
I recall at age 7 or so nicking a 12 bore cartridge that was lying around somewhere and a group of us probably about 5 or 6 sat round in a circle in a stable, I held it with plyers pointing face down at the stone floor while someone held a six inch nail on the trigger button while another person (my brother) hit the nail with a hammer. An enormous bang and I felt the shot rush past my cheeks having bounced off the floor. None of us was hurt - an absolute miracle - I still shudder thinking about it. No adults in sight or perturbed by the shot going off.