The Wingrove

Every single Friday after school. Without fail. For more years that I care to remember. My mum, sister and I.
«Did what?», I hear you cry.
Visited The Wingrove of course. I mean, what else? It was almost a family tradition, deep rooted in the hearts and minds of my younger sibling and I. We automatically knew Friday meant sweetie day at The Wingrove. Ahh, good times.
The Wingrove was one of those newsagents where everyone knew each other, and we were served by the same old wee woman every week. The old-​fashioned layout of the confectionery was situated in tiers at the counter, and even though we went for nearly the same packet of sweets every week, many minutes were spent gazing in awe at the sheer variety of these candied goods, packed full of dear only knows what. (I can tell you, not much has changed… I’m probably even more indecisive now. Or maybe not). I honestly have no idea how my mum put up with two sugar saturated young girls, who were practically bouncing off the ceiling. Those ‘E’ numbers have a lot to answer for.
On occasion, ice lollies were permitted, and maybe even a magazine if we were lucky. The Wingrove also supplied a small number of greetings cards (that kept my mum happy), and a few toys (I can’t remember how many times we had to prise my sister away from the dolls). Oh, those were the days…
The Wingrove has recently undergone a facelift, with a brand spanking new sleek black and white sign, as well as a furniture rearrangement (well, you know what I mean), which was incredibly strange to see when I popped in for the first time in I don’t know how many years.
I’m so chuffed to see The Wingrove still going strong, feeding and amusing lots of happy school children. Thank goodness for the lack of ‘E’ numbers these days mind you, that’s all I can say…