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	<title>Comments on: Anna Skrine, custodian</title>
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	<link>http://spitalfieldslife.com/2010/02/06/anna-skrine-custodian/</link>
	<description>In the midst of life I woke and found myself living in an old house beside Brick Lane in the East End of London.</description>
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		<title>By: Susan</title>
		<link>http://spitalfieldslife.com/2010/02/06/anna-skrine-custodian/#comment-454</link>
		<dc:creator>Susan</dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 07 Feb 2010 17:17:02 +0000</pubDate>
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		<description>I keep coming back to this entry to look at your photo of the floor, musing on the feet that have walked there: gowns and kid slippers sweeping past, children&#039;s boots clattering after some dropped toy, the halting steps of an elder, punctuated by the determined thunk of a cane.  Perhaps the children&#039;s boots and elder&#039;s cane belonged to the same person, a life span spent going in and out of that sturdy front door.  So many lives echoing down the centuries.  I am glad that the floor boards will echo still.

Susan</description>
		<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>I keep coming back to this entry to look at your photo of the floor, musing on the feet that have walked there: gowns and kid slippers sweeping past, children&#8217;s boots clattering after some dropped toy, the halting steps of an elder, punctuated by the determined thunk of a cane.  Perhaps the children&#8217;s boots and elder&#8217;s cane belonged to the same person, a life span spent going in and out of that sturdy front door.  So many lives echoing down the centuries.  I am glad that the floor boards will echo still.</p>
<p>Susan</p>
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