Author: | Alastair McCloud | ISBN: | 1230002194806 |
Publisher: | Alan Sutherland | Publication: | March 4, 2018 |
Imprint: | Language: | English |
Author: | Alastair McCloud |
ISBN: | 1230002194806 |
Publisher: | Alan Sutherland |
Publication: | March 4, 2018 |
Imprint: | |
Language: | English |
Having survived Scarborough, the accident, Blackmore and now with seven weeks left of our second year, Frances and I were convinced I could make it through the last few weeks at Sandringham as I now had an electric bike which was a great help to my ailing lungs, and my GP at the Dersingham Surgery was very insistent that I made full use of all the medical help which was available to me. I had an appointment at the Burnley General Hospital to see my specialist in a few weeks time, and when the season finished we would winter sit in Essex. I had just the winter to get through and then could enjoy the summer with hopefully no groupies. I believe I had got to grips with my illness, and as for my ‘fat lady,’ I hadn’t heard her singing so much these last few months although she still sits on my shoulders.
The August bank holiday is just a distant memory with September rearing its head, and this is the time to tidy pitches and try to repair them, especially where any disposable BBQs have burnt holes in the grass. Thankfully, my groupies have gone home and in the future I really must try not to encourage the ladies. My war wound has healed quite well although I am wary of taking shortcuts through the trees just in case there is another washing line strung across the path. Nick’s parents have been staying with them for the week, and he has the daunting task of driving them back to their home in Warrington. His wife Janet is staying behind as they are on earlies tomorrow and she is fearful they both may not get back in time for their shift, but Frances and I have volunteered to help out with his duties should he get held up.
Having survived Scarborough, the accident, Blackmore and now with seven weeks left of our second year, Frances and I were convinced I could make it through the last few weeks at Sandringham as I now had an electric bike which was a great help to my ailing lungs, and my GP at the Dersingham Surgery was very insistent that I made full use of all the medical help which was available to me. I had an appointment at the Burnley General Hospital to see my specialist in a few weeks time, and when the season finished we would winter sit in Essex. I had just the winter to get through and then could enjoy the summer with hopefully no groupies. I believe I had got to grips with my illness, and as for my ‘fat lady,’ I hadn’t heard her singing so much these last few months although she still sits on my shoulders.
The August bank holiday is just a distant memory with September rearing its head, and this is the time to tidy pitches and try to repair them, especially where any disposable BBQs have burnt holes in the grass. Thankfully, my groupies have gone home and in the future I really must try not to encourage the ladies. My war wound has healed quite well although I am wary of taking shortcuts through the trees just in case there is another washing line strung across the path. Nick’s parents have been staying with them for the week, and he has the daunting task of driving them back to their home in Warrington. His wife Janet is staying behind as they are on earlies tomorrow and she is fearful they both may not get back in time for their shift, but Frances and I have volunteered to help out with his duties should he get held up.