The blog is a bit behind schedule tonight, not because I've been working late, rather because I was feeling a bit queezy – dunno if it was the paint fumes or I'd eaten summat, but it was all I could do to start writing this at all. But, knowing as I do that the first 5 or 6 readers are already into it within the first 5 minutes, I know I cannot let my public down (hand to head in mock heroic gesture). Oh and before you ask, as the Australians say I have had a 'groan down the white telephone' and feel a lot better.
A couple of years ago, I had a trip up in the cherry-picker that the steelworks contractors were using to access the purlins, etc., as the skeleton of the Geoffrey Briddon Building took form. I took pictures (see here) and asked Father Christmas if he would bring me one. Clearly I wasn't a good enough boy, or he couldn't fit it in the sleigh, as my own one was not forthcoming. But the Terrypicker is a good alternative, and I am much happier with cladding between me and the outside world so don't miss the view (or the draught).
The mornings have taken on a definite Autumnal feel, with a subtle chill in the air, although it is noticeably warmer inside the shed. The days though continue to be bright and encourage us to get out on our little piece of track extension.
Several readers speculated, after my teaser at the end of last week's edition, whether things had kicked off with Peak Rail's management again, which was logical but actually not so. 'It' has had a significant effect on events this week though, and resulted in the title being apposite (not a house move, but count them!). Plenty of pictures too, so should be a colourful edition.
It has always been a British tradition not just to talk about “the weather” (“Britain has no climate, only Weather. Discuss” was an exam question that my old geography master used to trot out about once a week) but to mock the efforts of those whose job it is to forecast it. Meteorology (which surely ought to be the study of meteors, not weather) in the UK probably reached its nadir when Mr Fish declared that there would be no hurricane, but over the last few years I have come to the conclusion that they doing it pretty well.
Some months ago I talked about an old photograph I had acquired at a table-top sale at the school nearby, which showed a Hudswell,Clarke 3ft gauge 0-4-0ST on the contract that laid a water main through Chatsworth, and resolved once and (I hope) for all the identity of the loco, for the authority on such waterworks lines, the late Harold Bowtell, had concluded it was something else.