RECENT archive photographs showing Paragon Street and the cattle market in times past (The Press, August 21) triggered a story our mum told us of our grandpa Taylor who worked for the farmers there.

One day, unfortunately, he was kicked by a rather large beast.

He was hospitalised and sadly had to have a leg amputated.

Some time later, recovering quite well, plans were made for his return home. Grandpa’s excitement soon turned to frustration when grandma and mum brought his outdoor clothes into the ward.

He was heard exclaiming rather loudly: “Francis, you silly sod, you’ve cut the wrong leg off me trousers.”

After another long trek home and back to right the problem, grandma’s welcome home hotpot had somewhat diminished into a crusty impression of the intended dish.

Needless to say, grandma, all of four foot ten inches tall, was of the fast food brigade and could produce a wholesome meal from very little in very quick time.

So I am sure the burnt offering would soon be forgotten, so it would.

Ain’t life grand.

Barbara Woodley, Fulford, York.