24th
January
2018
Moving out and up
My first home was actually owned by my parents. They didn’t make that mistake again for another decade. You see, one of the perks of railway employment (for the fortunate ones) involved housing provided as part of the the “package”. The station agent would bid on a better job, based on seniority, and take whatever was offered. And so, by the time of my third birthday, we had moved. Down the line. Into the next village, which also came with a store big enough to sell tea by the box.
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