Week One: The Table, the Printer, and the Street
Early morning in Kingswood — before the day begins, the work’s already started.
Every flyer that’s landed on a doorstep this week started life on our dining table — printed at home, stacked by hand, delivered on foot.
It’s become a bit of a shared ritual — Mum folding the stacks while I run the printer, again and again. My grandad — 94 this year — has been out delivering too, covering the nearby streets in Beanfield. He doesn’t say much about it, just picks up the bundle and gets on with it. He was a soldier and a steelworker — I think he sees this as the same sort of thing. You do your bit.
A few mornings this week started just before six. The streets are quiet — long rows of houses with only the occasional window lit. I’ve been carrying a list, marking off street names as I go, working methodically.
Some days begin with flyers. Others with early trains to York, London or Edinburgh for work. Sometimes, it’s both. But I’m always back in Corby by night — it’s home, and that’s why I’m doing this.
Now and then, someone says hello. A couple of short conversations, a kind word here or there. A few people waved from their windows. It doesn’t take much to lift your mood when you’re walking with a bag of leaflets before work.
We’ve managed to get several hundred out already, but there are thousands more homes across Kingswood. If we haven’t reached yours yet — or don’t manage to — I hope you’ll understand. It’s just the few of us, doing what we can. There’s a copy of the flyer on the website if you want to take a look or share it with someone else: voiceforcorby.co.uk
This week’s been a reminder that even something as simple as delivering a flyer can feel like real work. But it’s a kind of good work. There’s more printing to do tonight. More walking tomorrow.
Every doorstep matters. We’re doing our best to reach yours.
— Gary
If you see one of these through your door, remember — it was made right here at home, and delivered by one of us.
