I loved my Enid Blyton books. The adventures, the food -- I can still remember salivating over treacle pudding, wobbly blancmange, tempting boiled sweets, stripey humbugs, cold ham, tinned tongue -- beds made from heather and bracken, caves to explore in, pixies and elves, Mr Pinkwhistle ... I can remember them all. 57% into the book and I am still waiting for something to happen. Yawn.
— Oct 12, 2017 05:26AM
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