Life in the South
Clevedon was never my home Probably the only thing my late mother and I agreed on was our dislike of moving south during the winter of 63. We had to move as my father had information the steel works he worked at was going to close, and it did, six months after we moved. Luck, or insider knowledge, I never found the answer, if I had asked the question I doubt I would have got an answer. Neither of us felt happy being away from our roots in Yorkshire . Being young, I made a few friends, but I was never at ease. One of the issues I found when I went to second grade school, most of the children had formed friendships from the previous school, and being the "new kid on the block," I found it hard to fit in. something that still stands to this day. In a way, this could be why I became a lone-wolf, because I found making friends hard. Though this short story is based around our home in Clevedon , North Somerset , the image is one I took in Scarborough .