Dog Bank
I went down to Tyneside for a morning in the office and an afternoon enjoying a celebratory lunch with colleagues. I thought often about Sheila whose funeral took place in Earlston this morning; she was the sort of person who you can't think of without a smile coming to your face. The woman who gave me a copy of The Peoples Friend!
The weather was filthy, though not particularly cold - just windy and wet. There was quite a swell coming up the Tyne, white horses and all. When I left the restaurant to head for the station I found a mysterious little lane I hadn't been up before - Dog Bank. Considering that the human bankers have made rather a dog's breakfast of things, then whyever not?
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