May 2, 2017
Cycling back from the Community Council meeting this evening with a song in my heart – for I had finally handed over the secretaryship to not one but two people* – and several insects in my eye – for the warm weather has brought the bugs out in profusion – I passed the turnoff to the ford. And as there was daylight still (and how nice it is to cycle in daylight in the evening), I thought why not.
Dear readers, I bring you for possibly the last time, the ford:
It’s been a dry spring, all in all.
* It’s always very satisfying when it takes more than one person to replace you
February 4, 2017
A visit to my parents this weekend gave us a chance to reunite the Brompton with a comrade in arms.
My parents had gone to visit friends of theirs in the next village along, so we pedalled out to join them for a cup of coffee and to swap tips on gardening (they’ve been using old carpets on their veg bed for 30 years and it’s not done them any harm), sci fi (they were very keen on the Martian, although mainly from the potato growing angle) and linux distributions (no idea – when I want a hobby instead of an operating system, I will put linux on my laptop).
The route there takes you past a ford, although what use a ford is without a measuring gauge, I don’t know.
Still, for those of you getting ford withdrawal symptoms, I post this here for what it’s worth.
July 29, 2016
Well we did it – or at least we’ve translocated ourselves and all our stuff to the new house
Paradoxically, despite moving to what is technically a larger house (but with less shedage) we appear to have no room for half of our stuff. This confirms my suspicions that the stuff does actually breed while you’re not looking.
Blogging has been light because we’ve been fairly busy over the last few days, but we did take the opportunity the other night to play one last round of ‘guess the level of the ford’.
Final ford reading
The other half was delighted to have the winning guess in what will likely be our final bout. Or maybe we will find another ford.
March 26, 2016
Like most of the country, we’ve had a miraculous period of settled dry weather for a couple of weeks now. As always, it has coincided with me being too busy to take much advantage of it, beyond my usual bicycle excursions – hence the rather light blogging in recent weeks – but, just as things were easing up on the work front, the Weather Gods returned from wherever it is they’ve been …
I was due to be leading a social ride in Bigtown this morning and I was extremely grateful when someone else offered to be the one who went and stood at the rendezvous point waiting for nobody to turn up, as it saved me a 45 minute ride there in the rain, followed by a 45 minute ride back, and having to get changed in the bath.
As it was, if I hadn’t had to empty the compost bucket and feed the landlords’ cats, I might not have ventured out at all today.
Well, except for one important thing, obviously
Normal blogging service should also resume too, hopefully.
Meanwhile Happy Easter, everyone.
January 27, 2016
It was so wet this morning, I was actually somewhat reluctant to evict the giant spider which was in our bath (not as reluctant as the spider, though, which managed to cling on to the edge of the window frame and scuttle back in towards me, whereupon my reluctance dissolved and it got batted fairly sharpish back out into the rain). By the time I was up and dressed, the waters were rising in the front yard and threatening not just our wood supplies, but the bikes in the shed…
(this is not quite as alarming as it looks as the buildings you see are all outbuildings, rather than our actual house which is a crucial few inches higher)
Time to revisit the landlord’s flood defences
And add a few of my own.
I’m not sure exactly how effective my efforts were but combined with some leaf clearing and stick poking, the waters soon receded in our yard, if not elsewhere – the farmer’s field bears the brunt of all the road drainage and he may have to switch to water buffalo if this goes on. Or fish farming, perhaps.
But what of the ford, you cry? We were hopeful of a good high score, but in the end it was rather average so by way of compensation here is the ford in action:
Then there was just time to wander up the road and try and capture the brief moments of sunshine before the rain started again.
I may have had a little play …
More rain warnings on Friday, hey ho
January 1, 2016
… and there’s nobody there to blog about it it, was it still a new high score?
The evidence of the ‘tideline’ on the road:
And the debris on the bridge:
suggests that it might have been, but some idiot has failed to equip the ford with some sort of ratchet min/max device so it’s not telling any tales. It almost – almost – makes me sorry that I missed all the excitement
Still, it was exciting enough discovering that Bigtown was on the front page when I stopped to pick the Guardian in Heathrow airport yesterday (yes, that Guardian, the one with all the headless maps of interesting data from England and Wales usually labelled something like ‘house prices soaring in the UK’ where Scotland only exists during the Festival in August). Which in turn was almost as startling as being told by the chap at the till in WH Smith’s that the world was going to end in 2016 – and that he knew this because apparently the Queen had said so in an outtake during her Christmas broadcast, not realising the microphone was still live.*
Her majesty might have a point, seeing as I spotted this plant in full flower on my ride back from the papershop this morning.
It’s January, people, January. How am I ever going to get my garlic to vernalise if this goes on?
*It only occurs to me now that this might be part of desperate measures on the part of WH Smith’s to persuade their customers to use the self-service tills
November 18, 2015
I have to confess that there’s something quite grimly satisfying about being greeted with the words ‘you’re mental, what are you doing cycling in this weather?’ by your neighbour as you peel yourself off the bike after a soggy ride home. But even more satisfying is spotting a window of opportunity between the dire warnings of heavy rain in the mornging and the direr warnings of high winds in the afternoon,* and grabbing the chance to nip out for the paper…
There was a headwind, but that’s okay – I got it back on the way home and with interest. There were parts of the road where I barely needed to turn a pedal.
But never mind all that, you cry, what of the ford?
I call that a bit disappointing.
* Or ‘November’ as it used to be known