Spent some time here down on the Dee, walking out to the middle at low tide, playing in the old gun garrison overlooking the Dee, until someone yelled "GHOST" and we ran like startled hares. My mother once said something about the tunnel from the Dee, but it had more to do with running contraband? Sang in the choir at St Bartholomew's for a short time, an awe inspiring place. I liked to sit on top of the cutting looking out over fields and Dee to Wales, it was so peaceful you could hear a curlew call down below. But best of all was sledging on Sutton Hill and the common until you were so cold you would cry.
A memory shared byon May 28th, 2011.
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