A a lot of these live in the Grove, some might say, too many. I am told that they make a good casserole.
From a top window of one of the tall Edwardian houses in Berkeley Road, the sound of someone practicing on the drums. On the grass on the opposite side of the road under the rowan trees, a small boy jumps up and down following the beat.
Today being the hundredth anniversary of his birth, I read in the paper about Sir Don Bradman, the great Australian batsman One of his sisters is said to have remarked: " I can't understand why they make so much fuss about Don. All he was good at was cricket."
Your lovely and heart-warming comment came in just as I'm reading this!
I spit out my tea in sudden laughter over the 'squirrel casserole'! I've yet to think of this when I get annoyed by these thieves in my plum tree, but now that you've mentioned it....
They were one of Elvis's favourite dishes. Though he called them squirls.
Once, walking through the Grove, I heard one schoolgirl say to anothr: "My dad calls them squidgets."
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