More Than Love Letters Read Online Free

the training budget to pay for this, and for any collective members who might also wish to attend. After some discussion, however, it was decided that the training budget was not appropriate to pay for Persephone’s Indian head massage classes.
     
    Next week’s meeting : 8 p.m., at Persephone’s house.
     
     
    42 Gledhill Street
Ipswich
Suffolk IP2 3DA
    Mrs Barbara McPherson
Director of Recreation and Amenities
Ipswich Borough Council
    Civic House
Orwell Drive
Ipswich
Suffolk IP2 3QP
    26 February 2005
    Dear Mrs McPherson,
    I am writing to you to raise my concern about the problem of dog-fouling in the small park between Gledhill Street and Emery Street. As you may know, there is at present only one bin provided in the park for dog waste, and it is a long way from the Emery Street entrance. Dog-owners who leave the park by that gate do not always bother to walk back and dispose of their dog’s waste in the bin. At least one additional bin would, I am convinced, make a big difference. The park is used as a play area by many local children, and this form of pollution is not only unpleasant and a nuisance, it is a hygiene issue.
    Yours sincerely,
    Margaret Hayton.
     
    The Hollies
East Markhurst
     
    28 February 2005
    Dear Margaret,
    Thank you for your lovely long letter. You write such nice, chatty letters, it’s almost like having you here with me. I’ve read it two or three times through, so I’ve really had my money’s worth. I’m glad you and your landlady are getting along, and that you’ve found these new ladies in the housing group to be friends with, too. I did worry about you at first, you know, all alone in a big new town like that. But you’ve always been good at making friends, right from a little girl, so I know I shouldn’t have fretted. The very first day you started nursery school, I remember I went with Mum to meet you at three o’clock, and the first thing you said when you saw us was, ‘I’ve got a new friend and she’s called Horatio.’ It took us three weeks to work out what her name really was – though your mum said Carnation wasn’t much better than Horatio!
    Your mum still phones me. But I’m using the frame to get about, and with the phone being in the hall, it takes me a while. So many times I seem to get there and the person rings off just before I pick up. I need to lean myself up against the frame, so I can free my good left hand to lift the receiver. Or if I do manage to answer, it will just be somebody selling something – as if I needed a conservatory at my time of life! Or life insurance – there’s not a lot left to insure, I told the girl last time, but she didn’t laugh, I suppose she was scared of being rude. I’ve told Mum to let it ring a nice long while if she calls. I suppose she’s too busy to sit down and write a letter – most people are these days. There’s always some Mothers’ Union meeting, or choir practice, or the church magazine to get out, or just someone round at the vicarage needing tea and sympathy. It’s a full-time job for her as well as your dad, I always think. I sometimes wonder how these lady vicars get on, because I can’t see their husbands taking on all the parish jobs, somehow, can you?
    Kirsty, the young lady who is coming in to help me, is really kind. She comes every day except Sunday, and she is supposed to get me up, help me wash and dress, and get my breakfast. I feel really guilty, because I’ve been so used to getting up early, seven o’clock prompt, ever since your grandad was alive, and of course in hospital they were always round with a cup of tea ever so early too. Well, Kirsty comes at nine o’clock, which is when she starts work, and that’s fair enough, she has her own little ones to get up and fed and off to school first. But I feel so idle just sitting in bed until she comes, so sometimes I have a wash and a piece of toast before she arrives, and then hop back into bed when I hear the gate. Then I have to