Eastern Grit

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I was feeling very smug when I managed to get my father to drive from south East Kent up to York to help me move house a grand total of ten minutes down the road. You can imagine my disappointment then when I was informed that there is no such thing as a free lunch, and that my payment meant that on my way home I would have to spend a whole day sitting on a rock at the top of a hill as I watched my dad and little bro climb up some cliffs for hours on end.


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