An eclectic story that's part farcical Cumbrian folk tale, part linguistic dissection and part OAP romance. Joe's bitter cynicism and idiosyncracies make for a humorous take on dementia, the nanny state, dialect and love.
Extract
So saying he unwrapped and masticated his fourth Mars Bar of the day and alongside that his seventeenth packet of Worcester sauce crisps. These were the only foodstuffs that anyone ever saw him eat, and given that diet and all round well being are supposed to be related, his phenomenal homespun learning, intellectual and emotional independence etc. would seem to be a living testimony to these murky comestibles (Mash Bass an Whoosher Krishps ed likely given im aw them greet brains and greet big woods, nut ter speak ev Baggra's amyazin gift fer bonny motts, aunty climax, hyperbollicks, sinkeydonkey an sek like).
