tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4726802159327032874.post4676173470244492334..comments2024-02-21T05:48:18.552+11:00Comments on Twigs of Yore: The incongruous sound I heard in the nightShelley Crawfordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15008715347583341427noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4726802159327032874.post-21191007926686677442011-03-14T04:51:51.927+11:002011-03-14T04:51:51.927+11:00I've just awarded you the One Lovely Blog Awar...I've just awarded you the One Lovely Blog Award. Have a look - http://intheshadeofmyfamilytree.blogspot.com/2011/03/one-lovely-blog.htmlFihttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01321354657419642710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4726802159327032874.post-17973690287468229142011-03-09T04:04:43.164+11:002011-03-09T04:04:43.164+11:00My memory is of the milk man and the bread man bot...My memory is of the milk man and the bread man both coming around by horse and cart in Mosman. There was an undignified dash by the avid gardeners in the street to pick up the manure.Rosemaryhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07230436754902585388noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4726802159327032874.post-48532325948776158842011-03-09T00:06:32.383+11:002011-03-09T00:06:32.383+11:00I have a memory like this, too. We lived in a sma...I have a memory like this, too. We lived in a small town, and an Italian gentleman would bring round a fruit and veggie cart pulled by a donkey. I remember listening for the donkey hooves and bells, and petting the donkey whilst Mom made her selections.Heather Wilkinson Rojohttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17704949156266722016noreply@blogger.com