There was a knock on the living room window around 11am this morning
I had been asleep just 50 minutes.
There was the grumpy postman, he wanted a word.
" Your dog is too vicious when I am posting your letters !" he said
Mary gave him a big, fat, fuck off, smile from her position on the back of the sofa
" You need to do something about it!"
Mary couldn't have looked any more proud
I apologised for her behaviour , and limply assured him that I would do something about it
She learned the letterbox thing from William.
He delighted in baiting the postie.
The fun of Sheffield feels a long way away after the reality of night shifts.
It only seemed like yesterday that I was sat with friends on the roof terrace of the tiny Curzon cinema in George Street, sipping gin and tonics and talking intelligent talk!