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This book is a collection of random memories and anecdotes collected together from deep within my fading memory. They are in the form of a series of stories by an old man (me) while sat around the fire with friends, family and anyone who will listen, and often while they are not listening, as he re-lives his younger days. I cannot call myself a writer, but downhill with a following wind I could accept being described as a story-teller. I have had, and continue to have a happy life. I am not particularly interested in earning lots of money, being a proper Yorkshire man I am more concerned with…mehr

Produktbeschreibung
This book is a collection of random memories and anecdotes collected together from deep within my fading memory. They are in the form of a series of stories by an old man (me) while sat around the fire with friends, family and anyone who will listen, and often while they are not listening, as he re-lives his younger days. I cannot call myself a writer, but downhill with a following wind I could accept being described as a story-teller. I have had, and continue to have a happy life. I am not particularly interested in earning lots of money, being a proper Yorkshire man I am more concerned with not spending it. I have enjoyed writing my memoirs and seeing them in print. My rambles are not political and I do not mention covid-19 nor Brexit at all. I limit my admiration to friends, family and very few past notables. So-called celebrities do not get a look in anywhere. Peter Norcliffe of Golcar. 21/06/1947.