Tag Archives: Butchers

Friday Morning – Agnes

Slept right through til 6:10, the benefits of physio massage and paracetamol, and the heavy-as-forecast snow, perhaps, dulling the aircraft noise: although I should be clear that they don’t wake me, I just hear them. One came over, to make … Continue reading

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Saturday Boy

At sixteen I quit the paper round. A tip-off from one of my sisters, a Saturday Girl at the butcher’s in the Arndale, told me there was a job going at their factory in Garforth.1 Whilst it wasn’t a huge … Continue reading

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