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Must be a nice memory Bert. My father died when I was 7, my fondest memory is sitting on an old apple crate next to him in the back garden on a hot day and having a sip of his beer. I was only four at the time of Sputnick and too young to remember. A few years later I named my dog Sputnick, he used to grab my trouser legs and wildly orbit my leg until he ran out of slack.
Last edited by acropolite; 03-10-2007 at 09:56 AM.
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