Is this or is this not an idyllic country lane, a veritable choc box snap.
The last house in the village, before the rolling Welsh farming pastures, spring lambs yet to be born.
You know if you haven't eaten Welsh spring lamb, be it chops, lamb shanks, slow cooked in red currant and rosemary jus. Or a leg roasted with root vegatables and mint sauce, I will tell you this, you are missing out on the most succulent tender and sweet meat anywhere on earth.
C'mon
Let's mooch
Now that is what I call a doorbell, bingy fucking bong, Avon calling.
Softly softly catchee monkee, the neighbours were at home and they had a fucking big dog roaming free!
It seems like previous moochers have arranged some of the remains of a life to obtain their shots, no probs I shall snap away too.
I know nothing of any history of this house nor anyone who has lived here, though I get the feeling that whoever it was was a god fearing man, shall we say.
Why otherwise the need for a hanging portrait of a locally born vicar who died in 1714.
A fascination for men's portraits still hanging from the picture rail, to the left another one with an imaginary friend, no idea about the edwardian looking chappie to the right.
I swear I did not place that advert in the paper! and all this gender wokery that seems to have been started years ago, by Mr Hornbuckle and his cock chicks.
Call me weird but I kinda like the colour of the bathroom suite.
How some bits and bobs remain in these places always amazes me, 60 years on, makes me wonder if the funeral pamphlets lived longer than the deceased themselves.
No idea.
I find this image to be rather disturbing, as though they are willing a curse upon me for being here, staring back at them, they look like something out of a hammer horror film preparing for their next sacrifice.
E B Jones were a chain of grocery shops across North Wales.They had branches in many towns with the Head Office was in Rhyl, once a popuar seaside resort that was a very popular resort for summer holidays; during the 60's, always remember going there every year on the train as a youngster on a weeks holiday with ma and pa and baby bro, 7 nights in a guest house bed breakfast and evening meal included. friday night, the last night was the highlight as we all went to the funfair.
Now the fun fair doesn't exist and the town is run down full of smackheads and dossers, beggars and illegal immigrants.
E B Jones folded when the bigger supermarkets started to take over slowly one by one they closed their shops and finally the Head Office in the 60s.
Back in 1962, one could buy a fridge freezer for a reduced price of 35 guineas
WARNING MANSPLAINING ALERT!!
1 guinea was...... £1.1s 0d back in the days of proper money, which after decimalisation (which caused prices to rise, as prices were "rounded up" from Lsd, funny how things are never "rounded down") So £1.1s 0d became £1.05p. Still with me???
In todays money 35 guineas is approximately £970, the average wage in 1962 in the UK was £800, my oh my how the rich lived.
victorian v edwardian, how styles changed very quickly in the early 20th century, from the dour black to a more relaxed style. (get you gok wan)
A rag tag bunch of boys very much in the style of the early 20th century.
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