I read Trudy Sheard’s letter in the Spalding Guardian of September 13 with interest.
In the 1970s I was a foreign worker in Italy. One day something went wrong and I found myself thinking “Oh, these blinking Italians”.
Then I thought of the nice lady in the salumeria, who swooped on her grand daughter, with kisses, in between serving two hectograms of ham and a spoonful of artichokes.
I thought that back in England I didn’t exactly like everyone and I coined a phrase: “The Italians are like the English – some are OK, some aren’t.”
About two years ago I was standing in the supermarket queue. Two places ahead of me was an Eastern European. He allowed a mate, from several places behind me, to come up and join him, thereby jumping the queue. I muttered a bit to myself.
Last week I was standing in the supermarket queue. I was in no hurry, standing in a happy mizzy-mozzy, looking idly at the goods that were being heaped on the belt by the Eastern European family in front of me.
Seeing that I had few things in my basket the lady of the family offered for me to go ahead of them. She was friendly, observant and courteous.
Before the recent influx in this area of people from East Europe there were decades of influx of people who came here from other parts of England because, for them, the “housing was cheaper”.
Some of them don’t know one crop from another and have no understanding whatever of the food-growing importance of Lincolnshire soil, and no respect for it.
PS I frown equally crossly at Eastern Europeans and English speaking very loudly in the library.