Grammaretto, we once lived in a house with a phone box outside. It was on a lane and we would often take a mug of tea out there when making phone calls.
Sometimes, in the winter, if we were waiting for a call back from someone we would tell them to ring it for a long time - and we would go back inside and open the huge sash window in the sitting room so that we could hear it. Then we'd stay near the window with our coat on ready to rush outside!
Three of our babies were born in that little cottage and that's how we rang the midwife - until we coild afford a landline
I have fond memories of phone boxes actually. The truly rural ones weren't the smelly sort you found in some towns and cities - and some had their own phone books in them too. Before we were married we spent a summer when I was working in a seasonal type seaside restaurant and after my long shift I'd ring my now husband who was working elsewhere and who would have walked a mile to "his" phone box and waited patiently for me to call.
There was often someone else using it (or wanting to use it). I remember the feeling of being so close when just holding the phone to my ear. Nothing needed to be said.
❤️
I do realise I am very lucky to still have him.
Miriam Margolyes (some may not like this)
What would an ideal far right country look right to those who would vote Reform?




didn't mean to shout. 
