Foggy Night

Having spent the foggy morning in the museum feeding mince pies to the old folks listening to the children's choir as they entertained them I was not available when the postman called to deliver yet another Christmas parcel.  So tonight I dragged my weary bulk down the long slog to the sorting office. The fog had worsened, the night had fallen, the opportunity to attempt night shots beckoned.

Overworked posties vans rested for the night, overworked posties did likewise. Whether they rush home to note the price of their free (cheap) shares, donated by H.M. Government as a bribe to keep them sweet I don't know, but most will be well aware of their value today.  How lucky these van drivers are to deliver around the rural areas, especially in summer.  No struggling along with a huge bag on a bike, or pushing one of those absurd trolleys that the management now wish to insist all postmen use thus making deliveries even slower than they are now!  Sometimes you wonder how the men in the offices get their jobs. Could it be that when you have no experience of a job you will be able to suggest a better (e.g. cheaper) way of doing it?  Could it be an office wallah is just incompetent?  Most  sorting office managers had at one time been postmen today however many have little work experience (of any kind) and those above them clearly none whatsoever.  The future of mail delivery in the UK is not good!

This building was once the social club of the major works that stood opposite. After a hundred or so years of operation the company shrank and moved on, it may even yet operate in a small way elsewhere.  The building has served many purposes since, being closed by the constabulary occasionally, and now appears to be a mere pub.  The naming of such places tells a great deal about the area and the history thereof, it reflects on the clientele as well as the owners, it speaks of the townsfolk and indicates something of the local culture.  This one is called, 'The Pub!'  No doubt it tells you all you need to know of the locals!

Can you just imagine what life was like when we used coal to heat us?  Each house, plus every factory, pumping out coal smoke drifting over the towns. Weather like this brought down the mixture of smoke and fog which we referred to as smog, a choking blinding substance that encouraged bronchial disease, blackened buildings, led to traffic accidents killed more people than cold weather does today. Dickens 'Bleak House,' begins with a vivid description of Victorian London in the rain, people slithering down one side and up the other at Holborn Viaduct, or before that was built to be more correct.  Rain, mist, smoke, people, all mixed in together.  It must have been awful when smog fell and folks were so unhealthy anyway!  

Ah well, I got my packet, a tin of toffees and struggled home while looking for pictures. My life you see is so exciting, are you envious, what?......oh!    

   

.