Well now, what on earth am I going to write about tonight? That may be your regular question when you long on to Weekend Rails, trouble is, tonight it's the one I'm asking myself.
Traditionally we have convinced ourselves that the last weekend of the month is the one where everything goes wrong and the first weekend of the month is where it all goes right. But this is one month where things have not gone wrong – well not for us anyway, but with two road traffic accidents nearby may it have rubbed off on somebody else?
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.
Will you still need me?
Will you still feed me?
Oh, hullo again. Spreading the birthday over two days may have had a beneficial effect, or maybe the presence of grandson, smiling innocently and enthusiastically blowing the candles out on my birthday cake was the solution to the usual annual blues. Either way, here we go again for a weekly roundup.
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.
One of my readers commented recently that one of the things he likes about this blog is that 'there is always something happening'. I have admitted that on occasion when I resort to reminiscing here in print it is because I've got little really to talk about. Is this going to be one of those weeks? I doubt it.
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.
The first week of September has seen us having to turn our temporary lights back on inside the shed by nine pm and mourn the passing of yet another summer. It doesn't seem that long ago that we were able to work outside as late as half-nine at night, but the nights are drawing in quite markedly, and the need to crack on with the proper electrical installation to get those ceiling LEDs not to mention the various sockets around the shed that will obviate a multiplicity of extension cables, is, well maybe not uppermost, but always in the back of my mind.
Welcome back. Traditionally the Bank Holiday weekend marks the end of the summer season on heritage railways, and services reduce as the schools return. The nights have noticeably started drawing in (and I did promise myself we'd have the lights up before this winter, but there's still time): and maybe this is all because I've been feeling a touch morose.