Last day of July; time do fly folks … … …
Jan had a pretty good day yesterday at Bourton, except for the price of 20p when they needed to go to the toilet – inflation see. I can’t say I’m surprised at a charge being made, after all, the place is a popular tourist spot. Parking charges are also high it seems.
When I was there on Sunday I paid £3 for just three hours. Jan paid £6.95 seeing as they were there all day. Just after she found out that by using her blue badge she didn’t need to pay at all. And that really bugs me folks, for two reasons. The first reason is that I read every word on the parking charges board and didn’t see anything about the blue badge exemption.
The second reason is that, after Bourton I headed for Oxford and parked on St Giles opposite the museum there; and that was free too, for all day as well. So then, if tourist places like Bourton and Oxford don’t charge for disabled parking, why on earth does Dorktown council charge us? They will no doubt say that you pay for one hour and get an extra hour free … wupydo! A whole extra hour! Generous aren’t they!
Over the last few weeks, local historian Mort Birch has produced a pull-out article on the town. It’s surprising just how much the place has changed. Mort has asked for any memories of the town so that the history and can be kept alive. There are so many of them that I have I wouldn’t know where to start, but I’ll have a go.
There’s the old Midland Red bus garage which stood where part of the ring road now lies. I remember the old buses and the old AEC signs in the middle of the bus wheels. I remember being taken to the garden area of the Castle pub in the Market Place where I always had a bottle of Vimto because looked dark, just like dad’s pints of mild. Then there’s the ladies loo we used to go to. Dave and me used sit in the front lounge while mam went through the back, although I have a feeling it was a ladies loo.
The town was once famous for jam making, and apparently was called Treackletown. I hadn’t heard about this until a few years ago when a large boiler was found in the rear of one business had begun making alterations to their shop. Anyway, this brought another memory to the fore; I remember being taken it a place in Attleborough where my gran worked. She was sat at a long table with a lot of other ladies picking out to storks of strawberries. Across the road for there was a local Co-op store on the corner of Attleborough and Lister Street. And there are so many more too.
I’m beginning to wish I had kept all those articles now, todays is the 8th in the series, all fully illustrated too. Never mind, too late now.
Today’s photo then has to be a shot of Dorktown eh …
And today’s funny …
Tom and Mat were best of friends, they played football once a week for 50 years. When they were getting older they had an argument if people play football in heaven. So they made up that whoever dies first will let the other one know what happens in heaven. After Mat dies he comes to Tom in a dream and tells him, ”You were right! They play up here and not only that, they have your name for starting quarterback!” “Oh wow!!! That’s great!!!” Tom replies. “Well,” replies Mat. “Not that great, they have you playing tomorrow night!”