Locks and trees and bridges and lots of still no bins

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.

12 Comments

  1. I looked up Hurleston as I wasn’t quite sure where it is. Then got carried away with Google Earth, going over my old stamping ground on Street View. New roads abound, and my friend’s house, where I used to visit to ride her pony, is now a PUB!
    Anyway, it’s quite a way from Middlewich, where you seem to have been recently.
    I hope the bins return from their wanderings. They are an essential item.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. My favourite hunting grounds are the Middlewich Branch, the Shropshire Union, and an extent of the Trent & Mersey… other fine canals are available (and I’ve cruised several) but why run around like a heaad-disconvenience hen during a pandemic, when there’s plenty to see, do and be hereabouts?

      My niece’s house converted the other way around – was the village pub a couple of hundred years ago, now a private dwelling. I’m not sure which is best, although most pubs are either closed or going bust these days, restrictions abounding. 😉

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  2. It appears that nearly all is well in your corner of the world. The bins lack of being being the exception. Bins. So human, so necessary and so oddly a correct thing that humans have managed to implement. I hope they get reinstated in your realm.

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    1. I have, as they say north of Adrian’s Wall, mah doots about the bins – tis the avowed corporate policy of the Canal & River MisTrust to allow all such facilities to wither, fade and die. They want to push all of us into the loving hands of private (and expensive, and sardine-tin-esque) marinas, which is what is just not for the likes of me. Boats stacked side by side by side? I can’t think of anything so claustrophobic.

      The “Canal” authority changed its remit – unilaterally, much agin iH.M. Government’s intentions – _from_ being a canal and/or boating organisation _to_ being a “wellbeing” charity. Fluffy metropolitan snowflake nonsense indeed, and on the tragic side of sad.

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  3. As I am geographically challenged in the byways, bridal ways (still only 30 guests?) canals and trickling tributaries of the water world of the UK. I had to wander into the kitchen and consult my ‘ Map of the Grand Union Canal shewing its communications with other Canals & Navigations’ September 1942. Price 7/6d, hanging on the wall to actually see were Hurleston Howsyourfather actually is?

    The photograph has a definite Monet wash of blue on it, just the addition of a water lily or two in the canal and the job’s a good’un.

    I suppose at a push food parcels could be sent c/o The Troll residing under the bridge?

    LX

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    1. The Red Cross used to address my parcels to “The Cooler” – they knew that I could never behave and would always be there. That vaulting horse thing was probably my best idea during the whole war (although the horse was a little bit surprised).

      For the life of me I could never understand why the Red Cross used to post out so many First Aid kits.

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  4. Certainly a pleasant day for it, whatever it may have been. In my case I wrote ‘The End’ which was most marvelous. I will say though one rich tea is not enough for coffee, coffee, coffee unless you meant a packet thereof! Curious markings on yonder bridge, almost alien and maybe the scratch marks are fingernails as one of the bridgedeers was dragged away screaming…..I write books and allowed to fantasise – always looking for clues, never knowingly undersold.

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    1. ‘The End’? Two words in one day? Steady on old chap.

      I confess that I have always been in awe of people who have “a biscuit” – of course I mean a packet! 😉

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