Hello from a very active little Lavender Cottage. That’s the name of my cottage, in case you were wondering. That conjures up romantic images of a cottage garden overflowing with mature lavender plants, doesn’t it? We have three plants in pots out the front! Right you can stop laughing now…please!
The activity is outside…on the road, because today we are playing host to the people who are brave/ stupid enough to venture on to the dreaded A64. Yes…the A64. The road of no hope and very little progress.
A section of the A64 is closed for re-surfacing, or something along those lines and us Ayton folk, on the A71 get our usual Saturday traffic, along with the depressed folk who use the A64. [I bet you’re mighty glad you chose to click on here to read this aren’t you? Where else do you get to read about the busy roads in the Scarborough area and the current road works taking place on them, this Saturday?]
Earlier on today and somewhere further inland, on a very dead section of the A64 there will have been 10 work vans, with two men to each van.They’ll have been wearing high visibility jackets and hard hats. In the middle of the road, next to a hole measuring 92 cms by 61 cms, and 30 cms deep, there’ll have been a guy, with BIG BOSS in huge bold letters on the back of his bright yellow jacket. He ‘ll have been chatting away on his mobile phone. Talking about very important BIG HOLE IN THE ROAD things. A guy called Fred [ they’re always called Fred] would have been scrapping away at the soil in the hole. Another guy called Bill [ and they’re always called Bill] would have been stood with his hands on his hips.The rest of the workforce would have been taking their breaks.The last of twenty, that they’ll have been bloody entitled to, today. They would have read all of the tabloid newspapers, between them. Discussed the finer details of Sharon’s chest on page three, through to page seven, and they’d have looking forward to a pint down the pub, later on.
Fancy aving to work on a Sat’day? They would have muttered, amongst themselves.
Thank goodness they’re not still slaving away now…on a Sat’day!. They downed tools at bang on 4.30 pm.
Don’t laugh, those lads are the backbone of the British workforce. They’ll have been there since seven this morning, when they turned up and revved a few of the van engines. For no particular reason, it’s just a custom and it alerts the nearby sleeping neighbours to their presence. Then it’ll have been time for a cuppa, the first of the day’s one hundred brews, and a first consideration of Sharon’s considerable attributes.
With twenty plus blokes on site they’ll have had to queue for hours to use the portaloo, situated at the bottom of number seven’s garden.
Finally, after a long day, the hole will have been dug in a half hour period, when Eric had clocked the time, at four pm and realised it was nearly time to bugger off home. Two guys will have dug the hole, whilst eighteen will have stood with their hands on their hips, looking busy. BIG BOSS will have supervised the whole thing, waving his important hands around, with his mobile phone still clamped to his ear.
They haven’t finished yet. They need to dig another 10 cms down…and then they can re-fill it and re-surface it. This will be done tomorrow. It’ll be another early start at 7am, but the neighbours will thank them, when the hole is filled in and re-surfaced. It’s been causing them some major problems…they just didn’t know it!
Here at Lavender Cottage, with the three pathetic pots of lavender, we will play host to the A64 traffic again, who will be looking considerably happier, as the traffic flows much quicker than it usually does. The reason? Apart from the hilarious, pathetic three pots of manky lavender to gawp at…we have traffic cones in the main part of our village, prohibiting us from pratting about on the high street. I’ve really missed that today. Saturday is not Saturday, if I can’t drive my car on to the main street and cause a bottle-neck. We all take it in turns to do it. Roll on next Saturday, when it’s back to the usual pratting about.
We might even take a trip out to the said village and marvel at the filled in hole! Can’t wait! Bet you wish you were me?
Thanks for calling by and if you’ve read to the end of this mush…why? What is wrong with you people?
Apologies to any hard-working workmen…just kidding, you do a lovely job with filling our holes in and things! Yes, it’s a cheap laugh and all the rest of it. Also, any Fred’s Bills and Sharons that have been offended by this thing…sorry as well. My blog…but sorry all the same. In fact you should feel sorry for me, that this is my blog. How would you feel if you had to contend with this for a blog? Yeah, not a good feeling is it?
I must go annoy some other section of British society now.
Until the next holy time.