Summary
QUITE recently,I set out in search of a mop head, persuaded that the marmalade and coffee stained kitchen floor required a jolly good swabb ing. I was seeking a proper mop,made of twirling twists of cloth,not the spongy,nasty foam effort that disintegrates in weeks.
My hopes were almost in tatters when I recalled that, in the environs of Lark Lane, the throbb ing hots pot for folk on the ba tter and gourmands feasting on edgy grub, there was an old- fashioned-style chandler. You may recall the beast from history books and wrinkled codgers banging on ab out the good old days.See the full content of this document
Extract
Lew Baxter: Whiff of Nostalgia
Its gloomy interior was cluttered with knick-knacks and paddywacks,from boxes of nails and screws, to alu...
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