Over Wendy’s knee

When I was 10 (in the early 1970s), my best friend Craig and I got up to all sorts of adventures in the countryside surrounding our village. However, one day when we met up, he was somewhat down in the dumps – he had been tasked with taking Sheba, the family Alsatian, for a walk, which meant that we couldn’t get up to much independent mischief.

Nevertheless, I offered to walk Sheba around the village with him, and when we got to the green, I had a bright idea. The village green gave on to downs which stretched over into the neighbouring villages. In one of these, my Aunty Chris lived with her husband.

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