Daily Mirror (Northern Ireland)
Let’s do this together MY AMAZING ARTWORK
The sight of olive trees always transports me right back to Spain – which is exactly where the painter of this hot, sunny day in an olive grove has gone.
Amateur artist Carole Leatherland now lives in Mazarron, Murcia, in south-east Spain, and is finding inspiration everywhere.
She writes: “I retired to Spain last year, aged 73, and so finally have the time to indulge in my hobby – my love of painting. There is so much here that I cannot wait to put on canvas and I have, so far, only just started!”
If you would like to see your artwork hung in our gallery, send a photo of yourself and your work, and tell us your age and address and what inspires you, and email siobhan.mcnally@mirror.co.uk
MEMORIES Woollies’ sweets and nuts
“Your column brings back so many memories,” says Wendy Maddox, from Dalton in Furness, Cumbria.
“As a youngster in the 1950s/1960s, I can remember buying warm roasted salted peanuts from Woolworths.
“They were in a big container on the counter with a light over them, which kept them warm. I used to get two ounces in a cone-shaped greaseproof bag.
“I also loved flying saucers which are full of kali – otherwise known as sherbert – but you can still get them today and, yes, I do buy them!”
I don’t like to be cheeky, Wendy, but didn’t think flying saucers went back that far, although I suppose UFOS could be light years old.
I used to chomp my way through bags of hard-boiled Monkey Nut sweets as a child. They’re called Sweet Peanuts now, but sadly I seem to be allergic to peanuts these days which, although they won’t kill me, give me very unattractive spots all over my face.
Which if I remember, was what my granny used to say would happen if I ate too much chocolate. Not that it bothered Michael Foskett in Lambeth, South East London, who still dreams of his daily chocolate treat.
“I remember a bar from the 1970s called Summit. It was a milk chocolate bar with soft nougat and raisins. I used to have one every day. Mmm… I miss it,” , he writes, wistfully.