I had another rubbish bin experience this week, when I told my oldest son, he looked at me aghast ‘you haven’t been falling out of rubbish bins again have you?’ he asked incredulously. But in my defence I was trying to act normally in front of a passer by whilst squashing down the rubbish bags and in so doing I missed my footing as I climbed down and ended with my right leg hooked over the lip of the wheelie bin and as I was wedged in a ballerina splits kind of contortion, I had to lift my right foot out with my one spare hand. Anyway, it all turned out OK in the end.
Anyway, enough of that. I can see everything from the new office window; the coming and going of the South West Water vans for instance, who have been turning up mob-handed lately to do work in the cavern below Theatre Square – the Gun Cliff Sewage Pumping Station. I think it’s linked to the £450,000 project to replace the old storm outfall pipe at the Cobb; work started on 26 September. Seems it’s not just me who is curious, several people who were strolling past the entrance and saw the door open, threw caution to the wind and stepped inside. By the afternoon the workmen had obviously had enough of these uninvited guests and they shut the wire grilled door. As with all my research, one thing led to another and I found this interesting bit of info about the history of Lyme Regis sewage problems http://www.lymeregismuseum.co.uk/lrm/wp-content/uploads/2016/08/16_sewerage_in_lim_valley.pdf
There are always plenty of joggers, come rain or shine. Sometimes they run in pairs; man and woman, lone men, lone women and on the odd occasion I’ve seen families trotting along, all of them wearing their lycra leggings or jog bottoms, trendy running shoes or well worn trainers. But there is one jogger who intrigues me, I’ve only seen her a couple of times so far but she is quite different from the other runners. She is wearing a baggy summer T-shirt and what I would describe as baggy patterned harem trousers, so not the usual running gear, but it’s her feet that intrigue me most of all, quite literally, because she isn’t wearing anything on her feet. She’s doing a ‘Zola Budd’.
Now I cannot deny I used to walk home from school in stocking feet because the utterly unsuitable shoes I had insisted on having were killing my feet and I’m all for bare feet at home, on the beach or in the garden, but jogging along a public thoroughfare without shoes where dogs pee and poo, where bits of glass could be waiting to pierce her skin and where seagulls regularly splatter the area in their multi-coloured mess, is just asking for trouble in my opinion. But perhaps she has tough-as-leather soles; just hope she doesn’t miss her footing one day and end up slicing the tops of her toes. I have my first aid certificate if needs be.
On the same day, I watched the LRTC workmen hoeing between the cobbles that break up the solid tarmac surface because if there’s one thing that weeds enjoy is growing between cobbles. They were obviously Elvis fans (the men not the weeds) as they parked their chassis van in the middle of the thoroughfare and turned their stereo on full blast so they could weed to the sound of All Shook Up and Are You Lonesome Tonight? I was going to tell the council office what a good job they had done, except they missed a whole area just behind the wall where I can see but the public can’t easily. Perhaps they had a pressing rock ‘n roll engagement elsewhere.
But what’s this about Paul Young I hear you ask? It’s true, we had the Paul Young of the 1980s performing on Friday night. When four people came into the theatre on Friday afternoon having been told by Gail McGarva who is outside with Vera, that Paul was coming to town, one of the two ladies asked me ‘is it the Paul Young?’ yes, say I, ‘the Paul Young’ They went straight to the Tourist Information Centre to buy their tickets.
By the time I finally left the theatre just after 6pm Paul and Los Pacaminos were sound testing and tuning up. It was a little bit strange seeing him there, in our theatre, the Paul Young from the 1980s so I decided to pop back later that evening to see how it was going. I arrived just after 9 and the second half of the performance had just begun and before long my knees were bending to the beat and my fingers were clicking. It was only a few minutes later my coat was off and then I was off! I haven’t danced like that in years, in fact probably since the 1980s. It was great fun, despite the unsuitable foot wear (but at least I wasn’t in bare feet) and long sleeved shirt, some of those old disco moves started to make a reappearance after a long absence.
It was a lovely atmosphere with people thoroughly enjoying themselves, especially the two young ladies (one of them had a natty little black moustache) who went up on stage with a tray of tequila slammers for the band, not sure how they managed to get past our volunteer security but it was all in good spirit.
So after stepping back to my disco days perhaps I’ll regress even further and wear stocking feet so I can join the bare foot jogger for a trot around the block.