ABSTRACT
We first met June Marsh at the beginning of the door-to-door survey of Springside. On a clear winter’s day three of us, Mary, Sarah and David, were going-with some trepidation-from house to house along Fairview Street. We had undertaken to do ten interviews each, and we planned to stand on the doorstep of each house and ask our questions. When I, David, knocked at June’s house, she came to the door with a small barking dog. She put the dog into the back room and returned to invite me in. The door opened straight into her front room; I was quickly catapulted into June’s world. My survey notes read as follows:
TV on, CB radio on and crackling away. Gas fire, warm. Birds in cage and washing drying on rack. Talked a lot, she explained CB radio to me and how it’s useful for her husband telling her when he’s coming home, and for reporting accidents. She recognised a man’s voice on the CB and said he’s retired, living in Morecambe, and directs truck drivers to addresses, etc. Junk mail just delivered was in the bin. When I asked her about junk mail, she pulled it out to look through, it was unopened and she obviously hadn’t read it before.
