Saturday, February 14, 2009
I love reading The Guardian especially on Saturday mornings. When I travel back up north to stay with my mum, the shop at the end of the street only gets in one Guardian copy, and that's got someone else's name on it. I haven't yet figured out who this Guardian-reading mystery person is on the estate where the tabloid is King, but I keep looking and wondering. Anyway, when I go up there, I order in a Guardian for Saturday mornings. Last time I collected it, before she handed it over, Kelly the newsagent laughed at my la-di-dah London ways and told me she'd ironed it. I'm still not sure if she was joking or not.