The great unveiling of Lucy Collis's new kennel.
John and I go up to West End Lane at about 7.30, and Sarah and I stand about while John bangs, brays, hammers and attacks Mrs Collis's kitchen like something not right. We entertain Mrs C's mother with a fine demonstration of the Yorkshire accent, which absolutely delighted her. These Northamptonshire breeds aren't all that up on dialects.
We leave at 9.30 and I get to Carole's a hour and a half late. She isn't going round the bend or anything and is quite normal.
Maria takes a different attitude and when John brings her down to the Hare she's sulking and has a face like a wet weekend.
I got the last bus home and retired to bed immediately on my arrival at the ancestral pile.
You're very lucky to be reading this, because I nearly didn't bother getting the old pen out today. You may be even luckier tomorrow.
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The journal of a Yorkshire lad from the age of 17 in 1973 through several decades .... Transcribing from handwritten volume to blog may take some time ...
Showing posts with label kennel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kennel. Show all posts
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Sunday May 6, 1984
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