Dearest Blog,
Photo no 121:- My theories as you seem to have offered no ideas yourself; Got to be war time, note the uniforms and the standard of kit, or lack of it. Something of a scrap field. The numbers are consecutive, with a known marathon runners lurking at the back, so the size of the field suggests a long distance race. From the attire it must be late autumn or early spring. The kit you can identify Blog, suggests Birmingham or the Black Country clubs. The Godiva runners was a Frenchman who came over during the evacuation of Dunkirk, a Godiva runner was in the same boat, hence the reason he ended up in and stayed after the war in Coventry! I have scoured the picture books of churches (the design does suggest 1900s Catholic?) in the libraries but have had no success. The church is so designed as to be significant, note the side buildings. The hoarding offers a name but so far, has not helped …. So come on Blog, git coiloil dun likeas tomorrow.
Returned from four days in the champagne air of God’s own County. Much refreshed even if trudgeless. The snow on the hilltop camp site was a couple of inches deep when we arrived and the sub-zero temperatures did very little to thaw the snow by the time we left!! Wasted a day in Grassington at their Dickensian Fayre, read ‘villages dressed in silly costumes flogging a load of Christmas tat to the punters who had forked out 8 quids to park’ (Blog, I kid you not) so they could act like a squashed sardines in the narrow village streets pretending to lap up the Victorian atmosphere. I must assume that those paying £8 to park mun bi fre Lancisire. The Yorkshire folk know where to park, like fer nowt. An it were nobbut local Yorkshire folk takin t’8 quids.
This knee business is now serious Blog, with a capital ‘S’. Couple of days left to complete my rehabilitation theory and then?????? You trudge and you trudge and all those little jobs that need doing around the house are procrastinated (!) for decades. So when a trudgeless day or three is enforced, the slight niggle frees up 25 hours a day to catch up on the years of neglected DIY and what happens … you try to contact three different loved members of the family to help with the DIY / to buy an item needed / to check the price of an item / for a bit of advice / to suggest where you left such and such a tool the last time you were doing a bit of DIY / to tell you where the new coffee jar is kept and so on and so forth. And what do you find. The mobile is switched off / left at home / sealed in a metal cabinet thereby ensuring no reception. You lapse into a Rodin like pose and think about man’s wonderful inventions such as the mobile telephone. Man’s Greatest Invention. Contact anyone anywhere at any time. Man’s Greatest Invention rendered totally useless by having the three female owned mobile telephone switched off / left at home / sealed in a metal cabinet thereby ensuring no reception. Second Rodin thought …. What is the bleeding point of having a mobile telephone? Four pennies (the ‘d’ type) did the trick better, from what I can remember. At least button ‘B’ gave some feeling of a satisfactory return on the initial investment? (Ask your granddad about that Blog)
So Blog, I shall now beat the Christmas postal rush by hobbling to the pillar box to post this small missive to you, hobbling back home and then I shall jump on the rowing machine to row furiously to nowhere followed by a few miles peddling furiously to nowhere on the static bicycle. The tantalising question is, by rowing and cycling to nowhere is my daily mileage zero? Ditto when I start on the treadmill? I shall have to ask Rodin in a couple of hours. I don’t want to disturb him just now as he looks as if he is deep in thought.
Seethe Colin
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