Park Lane
A Memory of Snitterfield.
I spent many happy days during the summer holidays with my grandparents who lived at No 1 Park Lane. I played in the park opposite and in a wood across a field at the back of the house. There was a pig sty at the bottom of the garden where they kept a couple of pigs until they were ready for slaughter. The butcher, who only had one arm, slaughtered the pigs on the back yard, although as I remember he only had one arm. I believe his name was Eden.
One of my favourite places is the churchyard where the family graves are. I can stand in there, shut my eyes and the smell of the evergreen trees is exactly as it was when I was a youngster. I am 71 now. Happy Days.
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