We left the West End Burial Ground feeling fairly pleased with ourselves. We’d found the grave we’d been looking for plus we’d uncovered a few interesting stories and the odd mystery along the way. What more could we want from a walk?
“Shall we walk back through Telegraph Woods?” I suggested as we stood in front of the war memorial on the corner. Even when I told him it would be a steep uphill walk, CJ thought it was a good idea, especially as he’d never been to Telegraph Woods before.
At the end of June Commando injured his ankle. Our GP, when I finally managed to persuade him to go, told him he was too old to be running and should give up at once because he probably had osteoarthritis. Obviously, we ignored this diagnosis. Three weeks later, with things not really improving, Commando visited a sports physio for a second opinion. The diagnosis this time was a possible stress fracture. He suggested a full assessment at the Perform Sports Medicine Centre at the Aegis Bowl and an X-ray. Continue reading Spooked in Telegraph Woods and a third opinion
With one last tearful look at the old workhouse come hospital I turned for home. I still wasn’t sure whether I was glad or sorry to see it go*. It was certainly an interesting and historic building but there seemed to be too much sadness attached to it for anyone to think of it fondly. I imagined the wrecking ball coming down and thousands of ghosts escaping into the air. There wasn’t a lot of time to dwell on it though. The rain was falling and the sky to the north was an alarming shade of black that even the cheery daffodils on the verge couldn’t brighten. Luckily I was heading south but I’d have to hurry if I was going to outrun the storm. Continue reading Stormy weather