Stand up, lest we be inconvenienced
Dear Residents
Firstly I must thank all of you who got behind my Brown Trout campaign. I regularly pinch a loaf from the bread bin and nip down to feed the fish! Last year’s significant release has really made Raphole Creek, the regeneration project and the crack-down on dumping, a local success story.
It is with positive expectations then that I ask you to join with me in a new movement, to prevent the closure of the public convenience in Hertinmer Square. Last week, the council stated that as part of plans to lay bigger cable, the public lavatory will need to be removed, with no provision to replace it.
When I need to drop the kids off in town or I’m doing a Brownie run, I find it reassuring to know there’s a place to go if I get caught short. Which facilities would office workers use in the event of an emergency evacuation? Where would customers of the Sleeping Wit spend a penny on the way home?
If we let this happen, what will close next? The post office or maybe the bank? Where then would we go to send a large brown package or make a liquid deposit?
We, the residents of Pranker’s Wycke, must not allow our concerns on the matter to be pooh-poohed. We must strain, such that our voices be heard. We should ready ourselves in case the council chooses to play dirty.
If you want to contribute to the “We won’t lose the loo!” campaign, please do get in touch.
Sheila Fitt-Cumming
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
Letters #1
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3 comments:
I was deeply moved after my husband spread the local rag on my lap and drew my attention to Sheila Fitt-Cumming’s outpouring. Rarely has anyone leapt so violently from a warm stool waving a sheet of paper. Indeed, my husband was quite taken aback as, red in the face, I cried “I too Sheila Fitt-Cumming, I too!” Whilst I usually conduct my business in private, having been raised that explosive public outbursts rarely endear one to the neighbours, I can no longer contain that which has been festering within me for some months now. I am, frankly, sick and tired of the council’s bare-faced cheek, and its apparently insatiable appetite for laying thick cable around the village.
Things finally came to a head when I was awoken early yesterday morning by a strange tapping at my bedroom window, quite distinct from the usual rustle of my privet in the wind. Imagine my surprise as I threw open my curtains to be confronted by one of Marge Lammeries Great Tits frantically trying to escape from the clutches of a grubby little man from the corporation. I lifted the sash ever so slightly and, through the crack, demanded to know what he meant by groping through my bush, uninvited, and at such an ungodly hour. By way of an answer, he simply jabbed an ignorant digit toward my secret garden where, to my horror, I watched as three sweaty, grunting men, proceeded to coil over 35 feet of cable across my beds. Having just bent over backwards to accommodate their invasive pipe laying spree only a few months earlier, this scene was more than I could bear. I therefore wish to voice my whole-hearted support for Sheila Fitt-Cumming. It is important to nip this in the bud and I encourage those of similar disposition to share their logs as I have.
At my age, the nearest lavatory solution is a constant source of worry.
Sheila Fitt-Cumming, you have my full support.
Me and other girls from Sleeping Wit help often customers relieve themselves in main square toilet. We support Sheila Fitt-Cumming. Keep toilets.
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