Hurleston Roving Bridge this morning (at, surprisingly, Hurleston Junction).
It hardly roves at all.
This morning’s perambulation was a most splendid one. England produced one of those mornings – perfect temperature, sunshine…
so I done strolled.
Whatever those chaps were doing to the damaged bridge the other day it appears to have been some sort of keyhole surgery. Four square incisions, one large patch. Notice the scrapes on the road. Now, if only it were possible to think of a business yon side of the bridge that regularly moves heavy (inappropriately heavy?) loads on trailers…
The boater’s rubbish facility hasn’t, of course, been replaced as yet. Lots and lots of “no bins”.
Some dastardly creature has even dismantled the compound that they used to be locked in. A more cynical teddybear than I might even imagine that they do not intend to reinstate them, and perhaps never did intend so. Fortunately, I am just grumpy, not cynical.
There is though, a temporary foot-bridge over the canal, the world and its pet porcupine for the use of.
So I used it. I think that it’s temporary. If not then it’s one of those structures that benefitted from some sort of grant from the Arts Council, and has been designed either by first-year students and/or a firm of architects who cite as their spiritual inspiration Yoko Ono’s “screaming” album.
I was treated to a view of the canal that I’d not had before (being generally unable to levitate in public).
The trees and I had a good chat and set the world to rights.
To cut a long story short, to set the world to rights we need to get rid of all of the humans and replace them one for one with trees. I have agreed to put this before the committee next Tuesday, and if passed (and I can’t see why it won’t be) then the necessary buttons will be pressed on Wednesday morning. Please make sure that your affairs are in order before then.
I drew the extent of my peregrinations for the day to a close at Hurleston top lock (where I placed a large padlock on the top gates).
After a short sit-down on a long bench – it might have been a long sit-down on a short bench – memory plays tricks – I sent a memo to feet to volte face (confusing or what?) and we all – feet and I – trundled back to the Cardinal for coffee, coffee, coffee, and some coffee and a Rich Tea biscuit.
Along the way, the world having woken up a little, I passed the time of day with a lady whippet-walker and a gentleman angler who, having just caught himself a whopper (not a whippet) was much pleased of the witness.
One angler’s tall tale substantiated with photographic evidence. The pike was then returned to the water.
Who says that I don’t come in useful sometimes?
Damn. My apologies. The english language can be tricky.
W.H.O. says that I don’t come in useful, sometimes.
But what do they know, eh?
Th…th…th…that’s about all, folks.
I do hope that you’ve all had a splendid day too wherever you may be.
So long, and thanks for all the acorns.
Ian H., &etc.