But despite failing to finish my Mother's Day gift, I decided I had time to get out and about today, so I headed to Uckfield for a bit of hospital bed rest. Whenever I'm there, I like to walk into town at lunchtime, and my route takes me past this shop...
![Uckfield Meats Kevin Page. And they lived happily ever after.](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBCBcvWbWAfY6yYQqvDtOVjZRCTfJ3KOAdQteGkc_wywwv99-x9yEUHvLRyvH24SVpMVoK9D3g_R8Rd7lnrJW1t91B9q3ZvOVjZ4qpolhK39XcWpUDmfALx9ZUQEDnVhoM_ABS/s400/uckfield+meats.jpg)
I don't know if it's just me, but every time I have a butcher's at that sign, I find myself reading it as a film title. It's like 'Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man'. Although in Uckfield, it really ought to be Piltdown Man. Either way, I can't walk past the place without thinking it's a cinema. I spent the whole journey back to work this afternoon pondering a musical where Sally Field meets Elaine Paige over a bacon sandwich. I might write it at the weekend.
But anyway, if you're going to be a purveyor of finest quality meats, with the ability to heal fish, there's no better place to open a shop than Uckfield. The last four letters of the place spell 'Deli'. It's just a shame you can't use the first four.
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