Monday, March 25, 2013

Treasure, grumbling and Jane

Almost anything that I unearth when digging seems in one sense or another to be buried treasure.  I can never bring myself to discard this shovel which I have dug up before and which was lost  again comes to light this time in the compost heap. It is richly decomposed and  dead leaves and rust provide an intriguing patina. Welcome back.

A grumbling bus driver sums up all that is most endearing about our fellow countrymen. Knights Park on the edge of Tunbridge Wells, where the hideous new multi-screen cinema resides smelling of popcorn and flanked by fast food joints and a huge car park, he dismisses as a dump. "There's only one place for a cinema. That's in the centre of the town."When we eventually reach the town centre, he attacks The Council who have transferred a stop from the Town Hall to Monson Road. "The people in there," he says, pointing to the Council Building in Civic Way," move the bus stops just  so as  to hold up the traffic".

In the hospital waiting room among the names which called is Jane Austen.  A middle aged woman responds, not the Jane I think of, who died before we were blessed with the National Health Service and didn't spell her name like the motor car.


Lucas said...

Whatever the provenance of the unearthed shovel it makes a fine photograph, especially when clicked on, the flaked yellows ochres standing out

Unknown said...

M-L Sorry. I deleted your comment by mistake. I am so glad you appreciate it. This is the second or third time I have unearthed the shovel. I have used it in the past even in its present to state to move a little compost, and I may do so again, until it gets wafe thin and crumbles.

Lucas Thanks for the tip. I hadn't detected the ochres.