Toots in Solitude

By Toots

Address Book

Donald phoned me to ask if I could remember the exact details of places he had once lived. Now with my usual sharp. detective-like skills in play I remembered that my sister had an old address book of my fathers, and sure enough, I was able to supply Donald with the information he wanted.
Memories of my father came very much alive as I leafed from the front to the back covers of this book. He didn't own a book like anyone else, his was personalised with all sorts of weird and wonderful comments against the entries, (RIP sadly appeared on many). I drew much entertainment from looking through and this is one that I decided to Blip.
I could just imagine him, having read the article in the local paper, getting the telephone number, writing it in his book, calling them to point out the mistake, and not getting a reasonable response, hence the note. Poor Alf.

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