Building bridges

No, not those sorts of bridges. As far as “social” bridges go you won’t be surprised to learn that my opinion is that someone ought to stick a rubber hose up London and begin pouring warm soapy water into a funnel at the other end.

This is the bridge that someone forced a “low loader” over, damaging the structure and closing it to even its usual, modest weight limit commercial vehicles. You can get over the beast in a car or small van now but that’s your lot. Elephant howdah not recommended, especially in convoy.

I would imagine that the damage was done while the low-loader’s load was rocking back and forth with its full mass grounded on just the one patch rather than spread over the – hopefully – more multiple wheels.

As a consequence, the Canal & River Trust rubbish skip that lives on yon side of it cannot be reached for the time being by the usual bin-men and their rubbish lorry. CaRT have, gleefully it must be said, removed not only the skip but also the fenced compound that the skip used to live in. Any guesses on the odds of that facility never re-opening? They’ve already done away with the water-point…

CaRT have an unstated but glaringly obvious policy of allowing the boater facilities that they are supposed to be maintaining to fall into disrepair and be closed, driving us all into the tender, loving arms of commercial private marinas. I honestly think that the Executive and Trustees imagine that we won’t notice! The problem is, of course, that we are not as stupid as are they.

Have the Canal and River Trust Ltd and/or the local Council the corporate balls required to insist that those who broke the bridge pay to make it good again? I doubt it. I’ve seen Chihuahua with meatier equipment, and it must be pointed out that I have done so without making a wildly enthusiastic habit of observing the todging tackle of Chihuahua.

The bridge was not in the best of health even before someone dragged a heavy load over it. It was designed and built about two hundred years before the HGV was invented.

Half of the rendering that was slapped on to hide the crumbling brickwork had already cracked and fallen off.

It’s all part and parcel of the not-so-gentle decay that is the reality of the English canal system.

The wildlife on these moorings is surprisingly a little more varied than in Windy Alley. There’s a hawk of some kind and it is fascinating to watch it hovering, searching the ground for some unfortunate critter to drop down upon. There is a moorhen in the reeds opposite the Cardinal, so at last I get to enjoy watching some pleasant water-fowl.

Sadly, there are also swans, swans with eight cygnets. Vile creatures. Would that the hawk fed on swan! Ill-tempered, highly territorial, violent and filthy is what swans are. If you’ve ever seen a patch of towpath that has had swans sleeping on it even just overnight, you’ll know what filth and mess is.

Clarissa Dickson Wright had the correct way of dealing with swans.

Roast and served with vegetables.

Talking of roasting, I have a new gizmo on the way. Some Swedish “Omnia Oven” – a multi-layer pot that can be used on a fire/gas/whatever and behaves like an oven. The Hutson is in reality a bread-and-pie monster, and if this beastie works I might at last be able to make proper bread and pies again – albethey “bundt” shaped ones. The write-ups are good, and the many videos on U-Bend look convincing.

Doubtless it will take some getting used to.

It went “out of stock” the moment yours truly made his purchase, but my local Amazon tell me that they have one on hand now. Here’s the link if you want a closer look – Omnia Oven.

In for a penny in for a guinea I’ve also ordered a couple of the silicone inserts (no, not those sort, silly!) – most folk of the boat/van/survivalist-cabin-dwelling variety on U-Bend videos recommended them as making the beast both easier to clean and to persuade to give up its cooked contents. Instead of the food therefore being in contact with the aluminium parts of the pan I will likely be ingesting petro-chemicals from the silicone.

Given the state of the world today, I couldn’t give a rodent’s rectum about either. I likely die from the effects of the aluminium, from the effects of the petro-chemicals in the silicone inserts, or I more probably get kicked to death in the street for refusing to “take a knee” when ordered to by some rampaging racist mob.

I’ll let you know how it goes, when it goes. The gizmo, that is, not the mob.

🙂

Half of the time I can’t believe that we’re already half-way through this year, and the other half of the time I can’t believe that we’re only half-way through this year.

What and whither next I (hesistate to) ask?

I was promised a Jetsons lifestyle by 2020, and all I got was a face-mask and a load of ageism followed swiftly by generalised racial hate and a police force that’s turned into a troup of second-rate street-entertainers busking and desperate for mob approval.

Ho hum.

Have I mentioned my rather prescient latest books? Available in many formats in all good (and bad) book shops.

Cheerio, and thanks for the apocalypse

and

The Age of Stupid

Both good, I hope, for a giggle.

Still working on the next un-international non-best-seller…

The Beast of Cholmondeston Lock

It’s on the way and, rather like the gentleman with the horns and the sulphur aftershave, will be with you (and us all) soon.

Chin-chin for the mo, Muskies.

Ian H.