I’m up early today because the blacksmiths from Teify Forge (passim) have added to their duet of generator and reversing truck; a quartet now, they have recruited a youth with a chainsaw and an ancient with a lump hammer.
Aware of the need for rehearsing their expanded repertoire they have gathered in Victoria Gardens for a 7.00a.m start.
The chainsaw is restrained in the first bars, coaxed repeatedly into starting. As it catches and finds it’s place the mood settles allowing the sharp high attack of the hammer to be introduced. The Hammer of the Sods.
I give in and get up.
Anyway in homage to the navvy here are three great books about railways.
If you want to get my goat then your best bet would be to start up some heavy plant outside my window early on a Sunday morning. The throb of generators perhaps with a counterpoint of reversing lorry is certain to bring me stumbling to the curtains with an oath.
I recall one Sunday, about 10 years ago, standing outside Isfryn (where lived before Umsinga), in the lane, in my slippers, in my flapping dressing gown, berating the driver of a JCB. He was making a nice early start on the building plot opposite. It was 7.30a.m fer c*****s sake! Fair play to the man he went home for an hour. In the cold light of (later in the) day I felt more than a little bit foolish.
So, to this morning. As readers may recall, Umsinga is moored close up to that Cardigan jewel, Victoria Gardens. I was dragged to consciousness at 8.00am by the offending clatter of 3 sturdy fellows from Teify Forge at Lampeter. They had a long flat-bed truck and another carrying their generators; they were busy taking down the railings on the north side of the gardens, torches aglow. They had already got work on the kissing gate and were loading up the sections to take away.
See how I’ve mellowed! I dressed (after all I don’t live on a quiet country lane now), I went downstairs, gave Elsie some breakfast, grabbed my camera and went outside and took some pictures. They weren’t particularly joyful about this and nor were they particularly forthcoming about what was going on. I don’t blame them either; I probably looked a bit mad. Just as well I was properly shod and attired though.
So today Victoria Gardens looks somewhat odd with a whole of a flank de-railed. I’m looking forward to what happens next.
Here are the pictures, made in anger.
We have net curtains in our new front room; pretty, traditional and the only furnishing in the room. Until now any who passed by could admire our minimalist taste and elan. From today we have established a kind of privacy that we can enjoy in a soft veiled light.
And today an unexpected and early autumn fog shrouded the Sunday-quiet street. Those busying themselves with their Sunday duties (the Ursuline Sisters our near neighbours) or their daily duties (the dog walkers in Victoria Gardens) became more shades than shapes.
And I guess that is how we will seem to the curious now, as they catch the twitch of the freshly hung nets.
