One of my grandsons is about to undergo training to become a barber. The barber I've been using is a sadist. He claims to be from Turkey, He may be just saying that of course. When I started going to him he would give me a pretty decent haircut, then he would proceed without any... Continue Reading →
As I stood at the till to pay, the barber who’d come all the way from Estonia to cut my hair asked me if I was a patient. ‘Sorry’ I replied. ‘Are you a patient?’ Aware I’d put my hearing aids into a pocket and everything was a bit muffled, I looked at him helplessly.... Continue Reading →
Getting home late from a week away, and needing bread and milk, Anita sent me off to Tesco while she unpacked. There’s a Polish supermarket 3 minutes walk away; one of half a dozen or more in the town, and I thought let’s give it a try. It was a novel experience. I was completely... Continue Reading →
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