Monday 1 April 2013

Monday.


Above is a photo taken from our bedroom window looking towards our town centre, taken two days ago on the  morning of Holy Saturday,  and celebrating a bit of a traffic snarl up occasioned by some very minor road works. Will come back to this a bit later in this blog.

Been a quiet day today. Ann motored over to Ely, to meet up with her brothers for what we know as a 'sibling lunch'. Didn't really feel up to it, so sent my apologies and warm regards to all by Ann. She tells me a good time was had by all. Should record that Ann's three brothers insisted on paying Ann's share of the bill - very decent of them.     I spent the day pottering in my workshop, and spending a longish lunch hour, perusing today's  Telegraph in detail.

Ann got home around 5p.m., I made us a cuppa,  and Ann suggested that as it was a sunny (but cold)  afternoon, a short walk would do us both good.


This brings us back to the first paragraph of this blog entry. We walked down to the end of the town (which reminds me of James James Morrison Morrison Wetherby George Dupree) during which walk I took photoes of :-
the above fifteenth century weavers' cottages,


a snapshot of the above fine, seventeenth century, leaded windows,


the above house, which dates from the fourteenth, fifteenth, sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and has had alterations and additions in any of the centuries that I've missed. As I've frequently shown pictures of the many  other fine and early buildings in our street, I'll cur this short and go on to -


this  photo of the above handsome, half timbered Elizabethan style manor house (which is, in fact, a bit of a swizz, as it was built, on traditional lines, in the nineteen twenties).

The whole of the street is Grade Two listed, and is used regularly by very heavy traffic (see top picture). About twenty years ago a seven and a half ton weight limit was placed on the street, to try and avoid damage to the medieval houses (one of which we infest) crowded on either side of the street, and that weight limit is FLOUTED daily, and with complete impunity. We have seen articulated car transporters loaded with cars (to be accurate - this has happened twice, once with seven cars up, once with six cars. I took photographs of the first time, and gave them to the local police - with no effect) going through our narrow, historic, street. Our useless, uncaring, town council does NOTHING about the matter.  As I find the subject just a tad annoying I'm going to stop here (BLOOD PRESSURE, Michael!!!)

Good night All.

5 comments:

Rog said...

Very annoying Mike - I get equally upset about cars doing 50mpj through our 30mph village just inches from innocent pedestrians (viz moi). Shame to see our heritage eroded though and perhaps the council and police would respond to a resident's petition and a bit of P.R. In the local papers.
Don't let it get to you though!

Unknown said...

Hello Rog. I think we've tried all those over the years - without result, except that our District Council have just done yet another traffic survey, which they'll talk about for a while in order to prove that they ARE taking action. But you're right - mustn't let it get to me.

Unknown said...

P.s. And, in fairness to them both, I must admit that our District Council is about as much use as our Town Council (the late Miss Sweet Fanny Adams comes into it).

Maggie said...

Who was sweet Fanny Adams?

Unknown said...

Hello Maggie. The phrase 'Sweet F.A.' has two meanings, with the first of which I shall not insult your shell likes; the second meaning is Sweet Fanny Adams, an eight year old child, who, on Saturday August the 24th 1867 was violently murdered by Solicitor's Clerk Frederick Baker, at Alton in Hampshire, where her grave may still be seen. Alton was subsequently hanged for the crime in December of the same year. From that to the present meaning of the phrase (which is 'nothing at all') is a little complicated, but briefly, at about the same time, tinned chopped mutton, which was rather tasteless, was issued to ships in the navy. Some 'black' humourist in the navy, said that the meat must be 'Sweet Fanny Adams'- as all her body parts were not found. Sorry- nasty story- but it's the official one about the meaning of the phrase.