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?
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.
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.
I said last time that I thought that this week would be a 'strange' week. It didn't really work out quite that way I had expected, but you can judge for yourself.
Ok, let's be clear. This is not a competition. I am not offering prizes. Just because I mentioned that one of my readers texted me before 07.00 on Monday a couple of weeks ago, it does not mean that you have to jostle to surpass it. (But for the record, it was an 06.35 e-mail which at least didn't disturb my well-deserved [desperately needed] beauty-sleep).
Apparently my opening remarks last week about the joys of being self-employed struck a chord with a few of you – not least one of my regulars who texted me in support of it before 7am Monday morning!
It's been a long hot week up here in Derbyshire (and the other places I've been to for that matter) and I especially enjoyed being sat on the M25 Tuesday evening after two cars and a foreign forty-footer closed it at Junction 25 when they all decided to occupy that bit of raod at the same instant. OK, not as bad as the poor souls stuck overnight in their cars trying to make it out of the country through Dover, but why is it that traffic always seems to increase, never matching the rise or fall of the economy?