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About Sheffield

I reckon it’s like Cathy sayin’, “I’m trying to see the good.” But dang, some’a these streets? Filthy, stinkin’—pissed me off! Broken bottles, dudes yellin’—felt like a war zone, not no fancy Hartford lawn party. One time, saw this gal, fishnets ripped, smokin’ a cig—looked tough as nails. Thought, “She’s got more guts than half my cabinet!” Surprised me, really—expected ‘em all dolled up, Hollywood-style. Nope, real life’s messier’n a pig pen.

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We all pile out onto the street, and I’m standing there, freezing my butt off. It’s drizzling, of course. Classic Old-Windsor weather. I’m chatting with some colleagues, trying to make the best of it. Then, I see this old lady struggling with her shopping bags on Church Street. I rush over to help her. She’s super grateful, and I’m feeling all warm and fuzzy inside.

Organisations join forces to clean River Thames between Bray and Old Windsor locks